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CHAPTER  I. 


Our  story  opens  way  bacK  in  the  almost  forgotten  past.  In  1855, 
the  old  Matteson  House  stood  on  the  corner  of  Randolph  and  Dearborn 
streets,  and  next  to  the  Tremont,  was  considered  the  best  hotel  in  Chi- 
cago. Among  its  patrons  it  included  nearly  all  the  sporting  men,  both 
residents  and  visitors  from  abroad.  In  fact,  "men  of  the  world1'  looked 
upon  the  plain  old  brick  structure  as  a  sort  of  a  home,  and  made  it  their 
headquarters.  The  landlord  was  a  clever  and  obliging  host,  who  never 
objected  to  a  "quiet  game"  in  his  parlors — and  a  day  seldom  passed  in 
which  sittings  at  the  card  table  did  not  take  place.  Draw  poker  was 
the  game  most  frequently  played,  but  occasionally  a  faro  lay-out  was 
improvised,  and  many  a  traveling  man  has  "bucked  the  tiger*  on  that 
corner  to  his  sorrow. 

On  a  rather  mild  December  night,  in  the  year  named,  a  party  of 
sports  from  New  York,  four  in  number,  had  been  dealing  faro  in  one  of 
the  front  parlors  on  the  second  floor.  They  were  not  known  in  Chicago, 
having  come  here  for  the  purpose  of  "skinning"  Western  "suckers,"  by 
means  of  the  devices  so  well  known  to  expert  gamblers.  It  had  been  a 
lucky  night  for  them.  Several  business  men  had  dropped  in  with 
money  and  dropped  out  without  it,  and  "the  bank"  was  the  winner  by 
about  a  thousand  dollars.  Under  such  circumstances,  they  naturally 
felt  easy  at  mind,  and  were  in  excellent  trim  for  adventure  and  frolic, 
cost, what  it  might. 

"Boys,"  said  the  man  who  seemed  to  be  the  leader  of  the  gang, 
"we've  played  lucky  to-night;  the  game  is  over,  the  bank  is  closed;  now 
I  propose  that  we  have  a  little  fun,  after  our  hard,  honest  work!  What 
do  you  say,  pards?  shall  we  make  a  night  of  it?" 

The  other  three  were  only  too  willing.  They  were  "boys"  who 
were  ever  ready  for  adventure  and  excitement  of  any  kind,  but  who 
were  especially  fond  of  frolic  spiced  with  female  frailty — and  such  was 
the  understood  meaning  of  "making  a  night  of  it,"  as  suggested  by 
their  companion  and  leader. 


They  had  already  drank  moderately  and  further  "refreshments" 
were  ordered,  while  another  waiter  was  instructed  to  secure  a  hack  for 
their  use.  A  sport,  with  money,  in  those  days,  would  consider  it  a  burn- 
ing disgrace  to  be  seen  walking,  even  a  block's  length,  when  out  for 
pleasure. 

The  drinks  disposed  of,  and  the  "tools"  laid  away,  the  lucky 
gamblers  left  the  room,  with  the  intention  of  at  once  taking  a  carriage 
and  making  a  trip  "around  town" — an  expression  with  many  meanings, 
but  which  on  this  occasion  had  reference  to  the  fashionable  "palaces  of 
sin"  that  in  those  days  flourished  to  a  limited  extent  in  Chicago.  The 
city,  it  should  be  remembered,  was  only  about  one-tenth  as  populous  as 
it  is  in  this  good  year  '82. 

The  hall  was  brilliantly  lighted,  and  from  the  dining-room  came 
sounds  of  music  and  merriment.  The  "help"  employed  in  the  house 
were  enjoying  a  hop,  and  having  a  right  happy  time.  Before  they 
reached  the  head  of  the  stairway,  the  four  halted  simultaneously,  and 
gazed  with  undisguised  admiration  upon  the  loveliest  young  girl  they 
had  ever  seen!  She  was  walking  slowly  toward  them,  on  the  arm  of  a 
man  of  their  own  profession,  who  had  been  in  their  room  that  very 
evening — George  Trussell,  a  handsome,  dashing,  liberal,  popular  sport, 
who  seemed  always  "in  luck" — not  only  at  cards,  but  in  winning  the 
attentions  and  affections  of  the  ladies.  But  the  men  had  no  eyes  for 
George — they  were  devouring  the  marvelous  beauty  of  the  voluptuous 
girl,  whose  bare  and  shapely  arms,  whose  raven  tresses,  whose  heaving 
bosom,  whose  glowing  cheeks,  whose  lustrous  eyes,  and  whose  faultless 
figure  were  displayed  to  wonderful  advantage  by  the  glaring  gas  light. 
She  was  indeed  a  perfect  picture  of  lovely  womanhood;  and  the  men — 
hardened  libertines  though  they  were — seemed  spell-bound  for  the  mo- 
ment, as  though  a  charm  of  some  heavensent  enchantment  had  been 
thrown  over  them. 

George  Trussell  and  his  fair  companion  were  so  wrapped  up  in 
their  whispered  conversation  that  they  did  not  even  see  the  New  Yorkers, 
much  less  notice  the  ardent,  admiring  glances  that  fell  upon  the  queenly 
belle  of  that  night's  ball.  And  it  was  well  that  they  did  not,  for  George 
was  a  man  of  quick  passion,  and  an  improper  look,  even,  upon  the  girl 
at  his  side  would  have  kindled  a  dangerous  flame  in  his  combustible 
bosom.  He  had  met  her  that  night  for  the  first  time,  and  the  dashing 
young  sporting  man  was  "struck;"  he  was  desperately  in  love:  he  was 
infatuated — so  completely  fascinated  that  his  whole  earnest  soul  beamed 
in  his  expressive  eyes,  and  his  flushed  face  told  of  a  passion  as  uncon- 
trollable as  the  wild  winds  or  the  mad  waves. 


"Who  is  that  beauty?"  asKed  the  leader  of  the  four  entranced 
sports,  whispering  in  the  ear  of  a  colored  waiter. 

"Dat  gal?"  was  the  reply,  indicating  with  a  wink  and  a  nod;  "why, 
boss,  dat's  one  'o  de  biskit  shooters." 

"She  waits  on  the  table,  does  she?" 

The  nig  nodded  and  grinned. 

"And  doesn't  she  do  cliatnber-worK,  also?" 

"Lawd  Gawd,  no !  She's  not  one  o'  dem  gals  dat  a  feller  can  fool 
wid  a  bit!  Oh,  no,  honey,  yer  can't  get  none  o'  yer monkey  work  in  on 
dat  gal!  She's  a  daisy,  she  is!" 

The  gambler  slipped  a  silver  half  dollar  into  the  hand  of  the  porter, 
and  drew  him  to  one  side. 

"You  think  she's  a  square  girl,  then  I  should  iudge  ?" 

"Suah!  suah's  you're  a  born  man!" 

"But  that  man  she's  so  sweet  on  is  a  sport — a  gamb — a  rodnder — a 
b'hoy,  who  never  had  anything  to  say  to  a  decent  girl  in  his  life. 
What's  lie  doing  with  her?" 

"Dunno,  dunno;  but  he'll  git  left  if  he  means  bad,  for  dar's  not  a 
crooked  har  in  de  head  of  dat  little  chile!" 

"You  told  me  she  was  a  dining-room  girl,  but  did  not  tell  me  her 
name.  Do  you  know  it?" 

"Her  name's  Mollie." 

"Her/wW  name,  I  mean — Mollie  what?" 

"Dat's  what  I  dun  can't  tell.  Some  of  us  calls  her  Moll,  stvme 
Mollie,  and  when  we  want  to  'stinguish  her  from  the  other  Mollies  in 
dis  yer  house,  we  calls  her  Irish  Mollie !" 

"Ah,  that's  the  name,  is  it !  IRISH  MOLLIE  !  And  a  right  nice  name 
it  is,  too,  my  boy.  But  let  her  be  careful,  very  careful,  or  the  dear  little 
dove  will  be  soiled  before  she  knows  a  feather's  stained  or  a  hair 
scorched!" 

The  man  then  joined  his  companions,  and,  as  if  by  mutual  under- 
standing, they  returned  to  the  room  they  had  left,  without  speaking  a 
word. 

The  one  who  had  questioned  the  porter,  and  who  seemed  to  take  it 
for  granted  that  he  was  the  party  most  interested  in  the  somewhat 
strange  episode,  broke  the  silence,  after  the  door  had  been  closed. 

"Boys,"  he  said,  as  they  all  stood  face  to  face,  "I've  altered  my 
mind.  The  programme  for  this  evening's  entertainment  has  been 
changed!  That  little  beauty  out  there  has  turned  my  brain  bottom  side 
up!  I'm  clean  gone  on  her!  She's  the  most  lovely  little  witch  that  ever 
wore  petticoats,  and  if  I  don't  catch  her,  all  for  myself,  before  the  sun 
wakes  up  in  the  morning,  you  may  call  me  the  rankest  sucker  &at  ever 


heeled  a  bet  or  called  a  turn  on  the  odd  card !  But  I  may  need  help. 
Perhaps  the  little  fool  won't  appreciate  my  beauty  or  winning  ways, 
either.  She  may  kick;  and  if  she  does,  I  want  you  all  to  stand  by  me, 
and  help  me  out.  Will  you  do  it?" 

The  three  scoundrels  did  not  for  an  instant  hesitate  to  pledge 
themselves  to  do  the  dirty  work  of  their  leader,  and  he  continued : 

"We  have  engaged  a  hackman,  and  we'll  keep  him.  I'll  put  up  a 
job  on  this  square  little  piece  of  proud  flesh.  In  less  than  two  hours 
from  now  we'll  have  her  in  that  close  carriage — and  then — 

"Oh,  then  she's  a  goner!"  chimed  in  the  gang,  with  coarse  leers; 
for  they  knew  their  man,  and  were  well  aware  that  he  would  resort  to 
the  most  daring  measures  to  secure  any  prize  of  that  kind  that  he  might 
covet. 

Ten  minutes  later  and  they  were  all  in  the  large  dining-hall,  mixing 
freely  with  the  merry-makers,  and  apparently  enjoying  themselves  as 
thoroughly  as  any  one  in  the  jolly  throng.  But  that  evil-minded  man 
was  watching  his  intended  prey  as  a  wolf  would  watch  a  lamb  he  was 
about  to  devour!  He  had  planned  a  bold  scheme,  and  was  determined 
to  accomplish  his  base  ends  at  any  hazard,  let  the  result  be  what  it 
might!  He  was  drunk  with  the  sweet  delirium  of  an  overpowering  and 
consuming  passion !  The  one  thought  uppermost  in  his  mind  made  him 
a  very  lion  of  bravery,  if  the  carrying  out  of  a  wicked  plot  by  desperate 
means  can  be  called  bravery,  and  that  dark  thought  made  him  wild  to 
frenzy.  But  he  was  a  man  of  wonderful  self-control,  and  could  wreathe 
his  handsome  face  in  smiles  while  his  heart  beat  with  maddened  fury, 
and  his  mind  was  gloating  with  lascivious  delight  over  the  accomplish- 
ment of  an  act  that  would  burn  with  a  red  brand  of  shame  the  spotless 
brow  of  a  pure  young  girl! 

"That  Chicago  boy  thinks  he's  got  a  soft  thing!  He's  playing  his 
trump  cards  well,  but  he'll  lose  the  game,  he'll  lose  the  game !  Before 
the  last  trick  is  taken  the  little  joker  will  sweep  the  board,  and  the  gay 
George  Trussell  will  find  himself  euchered !  Irish  Mollie  shall  be  mine 
to-night!" 

These  were  the  words  that  ran  through  the  man's  mind,  but  they 
were  not  spoken,  and  for  an  hour  or  more  he  waltzed  to  the  sprightly 
strains  of  the  violin,  and  made  himself  agreeable,  as  a  thorough  gambler 
always  can,  to  the  working  girls  in  whose  honor  the  dance  was  given. 

All  the  time,  however,  he  was  on  the  watch,  preparing  to  act  when 
the  time  should  come  for  quick  movements  and  energetic  measures. 

Irish  Mollie  seemed  greatly  pleased  with  the  attentions  of  the  hand- 
some young  man.  She  did  not  know  that  he  was  a  gambler;  and  even 
if  she  had,  that  fact  would  have  little  weight,  for  she  was  but  an  ignor- 


ant  working  girl,  unused  to  the  ways  or  the  world,  and  with  no  seated 
prejudices  of  any  kind.  She  was  honest  and  true  herself,  and  from  lack 
of  experience,  perhaps,  believed  others  to  be  equally  so.  George  Trussell 
was  a  man  whom  a  trusting  girl,  like  Mollie,  could  not  well  dislike,  but 
would,  on  the  contrary,  be  very  apt  to  please.  Noble  and  manly  in 
appearance,  with  smooth  tongue  and  fluent  speech,  and  very  graceful  in 
his  movements,  he  was  a  dangerous  youth  to  be  thrust  among  unlettered 
and  untutored  girls,  if  he  was  really  bad.  He  had  seen  Irish  Mollie  be- 
fore, while  at  her  work,  but  had  never  spoken  to  her  nntil  that  night; 
and  that  each  of  them  was  greatly  pleased  with  the  other,  could  be  seen 
even  by  those  most  stupid  of  comprehension.  They  had  been  together 
nearly  the  entire  evening,  and  had  engaged  only  in  ordinary  conversa- 
tion: but  there  was  a  hidden  something — an  unseen  and  unexplainable 
bond  of  sympathy — that  drew  them  together  and  kept  them  there,  as 
securely  and  inseparably  as  though  they  had  been  fastened  together  like 
convicts  on  a  chain  gang.  They  spoke  no  words  more  endearing  than 
could  be  properly  said  in  a  ball  room — yet  they  felt  that  they  knew 
each  other  as  well  as  though  they  had  been  born  under  the  same  roof, 
and  had  eaten  ever  after  at  the  same  table. 

Time  passes  quickly  when  happiness  rules  the  hour,  and  the  dial 
pointed  to  1  o'clock  before  George  and  Mollie  dreamed  it  was  so  late. 
Up  to  that  time  he  had  not  left  her  side,  and  even  then  the  idea  of 
parting  from  her  for  a  single  moment  was  farthest  from  his  mind;  but 
a  friend  called  him  to  another  part  of  the  room,  and,  politely  excusing 
himself,  Irish  Mollie  found  herself  without  a  companion. 

But  she  was  not  unobserved.  A  pair  of  sinister,  steel-gray  eyes  had 
followed  her  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  the  mind  of  that  bad  gambling 
man  had  perfected  a  scheme  he  was  certain  would  enable  him  to  ac- 
complish his  wicked  aim.  He  could  rely  with  perfect  confidence  on  his 
three  male  confederates  for  assistance,  and  a  fourth,  a  chambermaid  in 
the  hotel,  had  been  secured  through  the  potent  agency  of  a  crisp  bank 
f  bill. 

As  soon  as  Mollie  had  been  left  by  the  infatuated  and  handsome 
j  Chicago  gambler,  she  was  approached  by  this  girl. 

"Mollie,"  she  said,  feigning  faintness  from  the  effects  of  the  heat 
of  the  overcrowded  room,  "let's  go  out  a  minute  or  two  and  get  a  breath 
of  fresh  air.  It's  not  cold,  and  a  walk  of  half  a  block  will  revive  both 
of  us.  Why,  this  room  is  like  a  heated  oven,  and  I  shall  faint  if  I  can't 
get  out  of  it  long  enough  to  draw  a  good  long  breath !" 

Mollie  did  not  particularly  feel  the  overpowering  heat  described  by 
the  other  girl,  but  she  was  not  one  to  refuse  to  do  a  kindness,  and  con- 
sented without  offering  a  word  of  remonstrance. 


i!   E 

£ 


10 

The  beautiful  queen  of  the  ball  suspected  nothing.  An  impure 
thought  had  never  found  a  place  in  her  mind;  in  fact,  she  was  as  inno- 
cent and  spotless  in  character  as  she  was  perfect  in  mold  and  matchless 
in  beauty. 

The  girls  walked  leisurely  along,  conversing  on  the  pleasures  of  the 
evening.  About  fifty  feet  from  the  hotel  doors  stood  four  men,  but 
Mollie  did  not  look  at  them  or  seem  to  notice  them.  Had  she  done  so, 
perhaps,  untutored  as  she  was  in  the  world's  ways,  she  would  have  read 
the  warning  signal  of  danger,  and  avoided  the  first  peril  that  had  ever 
fallen  in  her  path! 

When  directly  in  front  of  them,  the  men  stepped  forward,  and  in 
another  moment  Mollie  felt  the  strong  arm  of  a  man  around  her  waist, 
while  her  companion  fled  from  the  spot  with  all  possible  speed ! 

"To  the  hack!"  shouted  in  a  hoarse  voice  the  man  who  had  seized 
her;  "quick,  boys!  hustle  her  in  before  she  squeals!" 

Throwing  up  her  plump  white  arms,  with  her  hair  streaming  wildly 
in  the  night  wind),  the  beautiful  Irish  girl,  with  horror  in  her  face  and 
terror  in  her  voice,  shrieked. 

"HELP!" 

Twice  the  cry  of  alarm  was  repeated,  but  no  help  came,  and  in 
another  instant  poor  Irish  Mollie  was  a  prisoner  in  a  close  carriage,  in 
the  arms  of  A  MAN!  and  the  rumbling  of  the  carriage  wheels,  as  they 
fairly  bounded  over  the  cobble  pavement,  told  her  that  her  weak  voice 
would  be  but  a  faint  whisper  when  the  big  thunder  roar,  and  that  she 
was  a  lost,  a  doomed,  A  KUINED  GIRL! 


CHAPTER  II. 


Among  the  many  who  attended  the  social  entertainment  given  to 
the  "help"  of  the  Matteson  House,  alluded  to  in  the  preceding  chapter 
of  our  romance,  was  a  young  man  who  boarded  at  the  hotel,  but  who 
seemed  to  hold  himself  aloof  from  all  intercourse,  except  such  as  com- 
mon politeness  forced  upon  him,  with  either  man  or  woman.  He  was  a 
youth  who  would  attract  attention  anywhere.  Though  not  what  would 
be  termed  handsome,  he  was  far  from  plain  looking;  and  there  was 
something  about  him — his  earnest  look,  his  honest  face,  his  manly 
appearance — that  made  a  favorable  impression  upon  thoise  he  met, 
without  any  effort  of  his  own.  He  seemed  to  be  a  stranger  to  all ;  but 
on  occasions  of  that  kind  even  total  strangers  were  accorded  a  freedom 
that  would  not  usually  be  given  them,  and  hence  the  person  spoken  of 


11 

found  himself  frequently  annoyed  by  familiarities  that  he  could  not  re- 
buff, though  he  did  not  relish. 

His  name  was  James  Parker,  and  he  had  but  recently  arrived  in 
Chicago  from  the  East  to  accept  a  positionof  trust  in  a  prominent  mer- 
cantile house. 

Ordinarily,  he  would  have  joined  right  merrily  in  the  evening's  en- 
tertainment, for,  though  not  a  "fast"  man,  he  was  always  jovial  and 
good-natured,  and  never  so  happy  as  when  assisting  to  make  others  so. 
But  a  shadow  had  that  day  crossed  the  pathway  ot  his  life,  and  his 
thoughts  were  too  grave,  too  sober,  too  solemn  to  permit  a  levity  that 
would  have  brightened  his  brow  at  any  other  time.  What  was  that 
shadow?  He  was  in  love!  In  love  with  a  girl  he  had  never  seen  be- 
fore, and  had  not  yet  spoken  to!  The  great  beauty  of  Irish  Mollie  had 
penetrated  to  his  soul,  and  made  him  mad  with  love's  ravishing  passion ! 
Insane  and  foolish  that  love  might  be,  but  he  had  not  the  power  to  re- 
sist; and  as  the  hours  sped  by,  his  aim  seemed  to  be  to  hover  near  her, 
to  be  where  he  could  catch  the  sound  of  her  soft,  sweet  voice,  and  to 
gaze  upon  the  beauty  that  made  his  heart  beat  wild  and  furious.  Oh, 
if  he  could  only  speak  to  her!  There  were  scores  of  other  bright  beauties 
in  the  room,  who  had  almost  asked  him  to  favor  them  with  hk  att^n- 
tion,  but  Irish  Mollie  would  not  even  look  at  him;  and  her  okisHng 
face,  as  she  recognized  and  accepted  the  blandishments  of  George 
Trussell,  told  James  Parker  that  the  dashing  sporting  man  had  warmed 
the  heart  of  the  Irish  girl,  and  that  the  fire  already  kindled  would  re- 
quire but  little  encouragement  to  fan  it  into  a  mighty  and  unquench- 
able flame !  That  encouragement,  he  could  see,  was  not  lacking.  The 
gambler  was  bringing  into  play  every  art  at  his  command,  and  was  sure 
to  win  !  He  was  towing  with  an  innocent  girl's  affections,  with  a  cer- 
tainty that  the  prize  would  be  all  his  own  whenever  he  might  ask.  He 
had  only  to  win  her  love,  and  then — ! 

But,  to  do  George  Trussell  justice,  he  intended  no  harm  to  the 
young  beauty  upon  whom  his  smiles  were  showered.  He.  too,  loved 
her.  He  had  met  with  many  women  in  his  day;  he  had  flattered  them, 
coaxed  them,  pleaded  for  their  favors,  but,  as  for  love,  it  had,  up  to  that 
memorable  night,  been  a  stranger  in  his  breast.  The  passion  that  had 
slept  so  many  years  had,  however,  been  fully  aroused,  and  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  felt  the  terrible  power  of  a  yearning,  burning,  irresistible 
love  for  woman!  Had  any  man  told  him,  then,  that  he  was  playing  the 
part  of  libertine  and  seducer,  he  would  have  resented  the  insult  with 
manly  indignation,  for  he  meant  nothing  of  the  kind.  Yet  he  was 
treading  upon  dangerous  ground — for  love  and  lust,  deny  it  who  may, 
go  hand  in  hand;  they  are  the  fruit  of  the  same  womb^  twin  apples  from 


12 

the  same  tree!  Ah!  George  Trussell,  little  did  you  think,  as  in  Irish 
Mollie's  earnest  and  honest  eyes  you  saw  reflected  your  own  image,  that 
they  were  the  beautiful  but  baleful  stars  that  would  lead  you  to  your 
destiny! 

James  Parker  saw  that  he  was  distanced  in  the  race,  and  that  he 
might  as  well  withdraw,  and  make  no  effort  to  win;  "but  he  was  not  a 
man  to  give  up  without  a  struggle — he  would  wait  and  watch,  and  hide 
his  love  as  best  he  could;  and  if  the  opportunity  should  come,  he  would 
show  that  lovely  little  waiter-girl  that  she  had  one  true  friend ! 


CHAPTER  III. 


George  Trussell's  engagement,  att  the  time  he  left  Irish  Mollie  in 
the  ball-room,  was  but  momentary,  and  he  quickly  returned,  eager  to  re- 
join the  companion  whose  society  had  made  him  so  happy.  Where  was 
she?  His  eyes  made  a  rapid  exploration,  but  no  Mollie  could  they  find. 
The  beauty  that  he  had  worshipped  had  certainly  left  the  hall,  and  he 
was  about  to  search  ,for  her  in  the  parlors,  when  his  ears  caught  the 
sound  of  a  shrieking  voice,  seeming  to  come  from  the  street,  and  there 
flashed  across  his  mind  the  thought  that  it  was  Mollie  who  cried  for 
help!  Like  a  bullet  from  a  gun,  he* shot  down  the  broad  stairway,  and 
reached  the  sidewalk  just  in  time  to  see  a  carriage  rolling  rapidly  away, 
the  driver  furiously  lashing  his  horses,  and  a  man  clinging  with  desper- 
ate tenacity  to  the  rear  of  the  hack! 

Naturally,  Trussell  was  a  brave,  chivalrous  man,  who  believed  that 
fair  play  was  a  jewel,  and  was  always  ready  to  fight  for  it,  if  necessary, 
even  in  behalf  of  strangers.  He  could  see  that  something  wrong  was 
going  on.  The  signal  of  distress  that  he  had  heard  certainly  came  from 
a  woman.  "His  Mollie,"  as  he  fondly  hoped  to  some  time  call  her,  had 
suddenly  and  mysteriously  disappeared.  Perhaps  she  was  in  peril!  The 
very  thought  made  his  already  hot  blood  boil,  and  he  rushed  wildly  in 
the  direction  the  fugitives  had  taken. 

"Carriage,  sir?"  shouted  a  hackman,  who  saw  his  haste,  and  drew 
up  at  the  next  corner. 

He  did  not  answer,  but  sprang  upon  the  driver's  seat. 

"Follow  that  hack!"  he  whispered  hoarsely;  uno  matter  where  it 
goes,  keep  it  in  sight,  and  for  God's  sake  keep  close  to  it!  There's  some- 
thing crooked  going  on!  I  don't  know  what  it  is;  but  if  any  d — d 
scoundrel  has  dared  to  lay  his  dirty  hands  on  any  woman,  against  her 
will,  there's  going  to  be  a  fight!" 


14 

Perhaps,  if  the  gambler  had  not  suspected  who  that  woman  was,  he 
would  not  have  been  so  zealous  in  the  cause  of  innocence;  but  as  it  was 
he  was  beside  himself  with  excitement,  and  his  greatest  fear  was  that  he 
would  be  robbed  of  a  chance  to  prove  his  valor  with  good,  sturdy  blows. 

The  chase  was  long  and  exciting.  Over  the  Clark  street  bridge  the 
two  carriages  flew,  less  than  a  block  apart,  rattling  past  the  old  North 
Market  Station,  leaving  the  few  policemen  there  on  duty  to  wonder 
what  it  all  meant,  and  utterly  powerless  to  make  even  a  weak  effort  to 
solve  the  mystery.  Block  after  block  they  thundered  along,  the  one 
intent  of  leaving  the  city  behind  as  quickly  as  possible,  the  other  de- 
termined to  follow  in  its  wake,  no  matter  where  it  might  go. 

George  Trussell  was  laboring  under  torturing  mental  excitement;  but 
the  cool  night  air,  as  it  fanned  his  heated  brow,  produced  a  marked  ef- 
fect, and  very  soon  he  was  in  condition  to  view  the  situation  with  calm- 
ness, and  with  a  deliberation  that  made  him  a  dangerous  enemy.  He 
saw  the  man  clinging  to  the  rear  of  the  flying  hack,  and  it  puzzled  him. 
Who  could  the  man  be  ?  Surely,  he  was  not  in  league  with  the  others, 
for  there  was  a  vacant  seat  beside  the  driver,  where  he  could  ride  with 
comfort,  instead  of  occupying  a  position  of  actual  peril.  But  whether 
friend  or  foe,  he  was  there  for  some  special  purpose,  that  time  would 
soon  reveal.  The  pursuing  gambler  was  well  armed;  and,  being  a  man' 
who  never  knew  what  fear  was — a  man  who  would  fight  a  giant  as 
readily  as  he  would  a  stripling — he  awaited  with  eager  anxiety  for  the 
meeting  that  was  inevitable. 

The  New  York  gamblers  were  not  long  ignorant  of  the  fact  that 
they  were  pursued.  Had  they  known  that  but  one  man  comprised  the 
force  to  be  contended  with,  they  would  have  laughed  defiance  in  his 
face,  and  made  no  effort  to  get  out  of  his  way.  But  the  probabilities 
were  that  a  whole  hack-load  followed,  the  scoundrels  trembled  with  fear, 
and  would  have  willingly  given  up  their  fair  booty  if  by  doing  so  they 
could  avoid  meeting  their  unknown  pursuers.  It  was  not  the  fear  of 
personal  danger  that  troubled  them,  for  they  were  "game  men,"  who 
would  rather  get  pounded  out  of  shape  than  show  the  white  feather; 
but  they  knew  that  abduction  was  a  serious  crime  in  any  shape,  and 
that,  coupled  with  the  intent  of  rape,  it  was  one  of  those  offenses  that 
required  the  law's  most  rigorous  treatment,  and  frequently  received  the 
attention  of  old  Judge  Lynch.  That  was  what  made  them  nervous, 
excited,  and  sorrry  for  what  they  had  been  foolhardy  enough  to  at- 
tempt. 

Poor  Irish  Mollie,  from  the  moment  she  was  forced  into  the  car- 
riage, lost  all  consciousness,  and  lay  quiet  and  unresisting  in  the  arms 


15 

of  the  gambler  who  had  been  lured  by  her  loveliness  to  commit  an  aw- 
ful crime. 

The  old  City  Cemetery  was  reached  in  quick  time,  and  here  the  driver 
of  the  abducting  party  was  ordered  to  halt.  It  was  a  lonely,  deserted 
spot,  with  nothing  to  be  seen  more  cheerful  than  the  weeping  willows, 
the  grim  tombstones,  and  the  little  mounds  that  marked  the  resting- 
places  of  those  whose  games  of  life  had  ended  with  the  turn  of  the 
spade.  Seeing  that  further  flight  was  useless,  they  had  determined  to 
make  a  halt,  and  "make  a  fight,"  if  they  were  compelled  to.  As  soon 
as  the  hack  stopped,  all  four  jumped  out,  and  the  man  behind  secreted 
himself  in  the  shadow  of  a  tombstone. 

George  Trussell  bravely  leaped  from  his  seat,  and  confronted  them. 
They  knew  him  in  an  instant,  and  knew  that  he  was  alone;  but  the 
shades  of  night  did  not  reveal  to  him  their  dark  faces,  madfe  darker  by 
the  vile  conspiracy  into  which  they  had  entered  for  a  foul  and  hideous 
purpose: 

"Well,  sir,  you  have  given  us  a.  good  chase;  now  what  do  you 
want?"'"1 

It  was  the  leader  of  the  gang  who  spoke,  and  his  manner  as  well 
as  his  words  were  offensive  and  menacing. 

"I  want  to  know  what  racket  of  the  devil  you're  working  up,  and 
who  you've  got  in  that  hack!"  replied  Trussell,  advancing,  with  his 
hand  on  his  cocked  revolver. 

"Stop!"  ordered  the  dark-browed  man;  "you  are  interfering  in  some- 
thing that  does  not  concern  you.  I  don't  want  any  trouble,  but  unless 
you  make  tracks  away  from  this  right  quick,  you'll  get  the  worst  of  it 
— and  don't  you  forget  it." 

"I  will,  will  I?"  cried  George,  drawing  his  revolver  and  firing. 
"Take  that,  and  carry  that  with  you  too!" 

The  trusty  weapon  spoke  twice,  and  the  New  York  sport  threw  up 
his  hands,  staggered,  and  fell. 

His  companions  had  been  taken  by  surprise,  but  they  rallied  in  a 
second,  and  rushed  in  a  body  upon  their  single-handed  opponent. 

One  of  them,  however,  never  reached  him.  A  blow  from  behind 
sent  him  senseless  to  the  ground,  and  when  the  two  others  grappled 
with  Trussell  they  found,  to  their  surprise,  that  it  was  to  be  a  square 
fight  after  all — TWO  AGAINST  TWO! 

They  were  powerful  men,  all  four  of  them;  but  he  who  struggles 
with  justice  on  his  side  has  wonderful  advantage,  and  George  Trussell 
and  his  unknown  assistant  were  not  long  in  putting  to  flight  the  two 
strangers,  who,  feeling  that  they  were  getting  the  worst  of  it,  took  the 
first  opportunity  to  retreat,  and  disappeared  by  means  of  the  friendly 


16 

shelter  offered  by  the  thick  growth  of  underbrush  and  shrubbery  that 
grew  with  great  thrift  in  the  old  cemetery.  Their  hackman,  who  saw 
bow  the  battle  was  going,  was  just  in  the  act  of  whipping  up  his  horses, 
when,  with  revolver  pointed  ani  at  full  cock,  Trussell  cried: 

"•Hob, 'or  If  net* 

The  driver  pulled  up  with  a  jerk. 

A  faint  moan,  or  groan,  from  Irish  Mollie,  fell  upon  the  ears  of  her 
lover,  and  in  a  second  he  had  opened  the  door,  and  was  pulling  her  Jrom 
her  hateful  prison. 

Then  her  lovely  lips  parted,  and  there  escaped  from  them  a  long, 
wild,  piercing  shriek  of  agony. 

"Mollie!"  cried  George;  "you  are  saved!  Don't  you  know  me?  I 
am  your  friend!  I  followed  the  scoundrels  who  got  you  into  a  trap,  and 
prevented  God  only  knows  what  kind  of  an  outrage!  Speak  to  me. 
Mollie,  oh,  speak  to  me!" 

Slowly  the  eyes  of  the  beautiful  girl  opened.  There  was  a  charm 
iii  the  voice  that  fell  in  such  pleading  tones  upon  her  glad  ears.  The 
death-pale  face  was  again  tinted  with  a  rosy  flush.  With  all  the  im- 
petuous ardor  of  her  Irish  nature,  she  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck, 
and  in  a  low  whisper,  murmured : 

"George,  my  George!1' 

And  then  the  fair  girl  swooned  again. 

Trussell  then  turned  to  thank  the  mysterious  stranger  who  had 
been  of  such  service  to  himself  and  Mollie. 

What  was  his  astonishment  to  find  that  the  man  had  disappeared! 

With  the  assistance  of  his  hackman,  George  gently  placed  the  un- 
consious  form  of  Irish  Mollie  in  the  carriage,  and  leaving  the  two  de- 
feated ruffians  lyin~  where  they  fell,  the  horses'  heads  were  turned,  and 
they  were  soon  makiu£  good  time  back  to  the  city. 

That  Irish  beauty  had  escaped  one  great  peril;  but  oh!  how  little 
did  she  dream  that  she  had  fallen  into  another  and  more  terrible  one! 


CHAPTER  IV- 


George  Trussell  had  led  a  wild  life  of  excitement,  but  he  had  never 
experienced  anything  that  could  compare  in  novelty  and  surprises  with 
the  adventures  of  that  night;  and  when  he  found  himself  alone  in  the 
hack,  with  the  lovely  Irish  girl's  head  reclining  upon  his  breast,  a  variety 
of  emotions  agitated  his  mind.  His  intentions  toward  Irish  Mollie  had 
been  honorable;  he  had  all  along  meant  to  deal  square  by  her;  but  a 


THE  GAMBLER'S  TRIUMPH. 

Other  Ears  than  Their  Own  Listened  to  Every  Word  the  Gambler  Spoke. 


IS 

gambler's  conscience  ia  as  elastic  as  a  rubber  string,  and  Trussell  could 
not  be  expected  to  successfully  resist  a  "terrible  temptation,"  such  as 
the  one  he  was  called  upon  to  encounter.  His  heart  beat  tumultuously 
with  a  wild  desire;  and  as  he  pressed  closer  the  form  of  the  unconscious 
girl  that  he  had  rescued  from  a  perilous  fate,  his  thoughts  were  busy  in 
marking  out  the  events  yet  to  be  consummated  on  that  night  of  strange 
happenings  and  almost  miraculous  mysteries. 

It  has  been  said  that  when  a  woman  hesitates,  she  is  lost;  and  the 
same  theory  when  applied  to  a  man,  especially  a  gambler  and  libertine, 
could  lead  to  no  other  conclusion,  without  reversing  the  law  of  Nature. 
The  evil  that  is  in  us  requires  but  little  encouragement,  when  circum- 
stances favor  its  development.  Better  men  than  George  Trussell  have 
surrendered  to  the  dictates  of  Passion,  when  the  demand  was  made  un- 
der even  less  powerful  influences. 

"I  ought  to  take  Mollie  back  to  the  hotel,"  he  argued  in  his  mind; 
"the  poor  girl  has  been  fearfully  frightened,  and  may  need  careful  at- 
tention to  save  her  from  the  effects  of  her  fright — but  shall  I  go 
there?" 

He  hesitated;  but  the  good  that  was  in  him  readily  gave  way  to 
baser  motives,  and  the  driver  was  ordered  to  carry  them  to  his  private 
room! 

Irish  Mollie  was  not  long  in  recovering  from  the  stupor  that  had 
resulted  from  the  great  shock  to  her  sensitive  nerves.  She  seemed, 
however,  to  feel  that  she  was  secure  from  all  harm,  for  no  convulsive 
starts  accompanied  her  return  to  consciousness,  and  she  opened  her  eyes 
with  the  same  sensations  that  would  follow  a  sweet  dream.  Though  it 
was  dark,  she  realized  that  a  pair  of  earnest,  loving  eyes  were  looking 
down  upon  her,  and  that  she  was  encircled  by  the  strong  arms  of  a  man 
for  whom  she  felt  an  affection  that  was  something  new,  something 
strange,  something  unaccountable  in  her  simple  mind.  Before,  she  had 
always  felt  a  shy  aversion  when  approached  by  men;  now,  she  could  not 
in  the  slightest  way  repel  the  advances  of  this  man,  in  whose  embrace 
she  found  herself  whem  she  avoke.  The  magic  spell  of  first  love  was 
upon  her! 

"This  is  you,  George  ?"  she  whispered,  nestling  like  a  dove  under 
its  mothers  wing. 

"Yes,  Mollie,  it  is  me,  and  you  are  safe !" 
"I  know  it!     You  would  not  harm  me,  would  you,  George?" 
"Harm  you!    No,  darling,  I  would  sooner  cut  off  my  right  arm 
than  injure  one  hair  in  this  dear  little  head!" 

And  he  stroked  her  fair  brow  caressingly  vriU*  his  soft  hand. 


For  more  than  a  minute  Irish  Mollie  gave  herself  up  to  silence  and 
to  dreamy  unspeakable  bliss. 

"Are  we  not  almost  home  ?"  she  at  length  inquired,  partially  arising, 
and  making  a  feeble  effort  to  look  out  of  the  hack  window  into  the 
darkness  that  enveloped  the  sleeping  city. 

"We  shall  soon  be  there,"  was  the  reply — and  the  gambler,  in  his 
turn,  was  silent.  He  wanted  time  to  think  what  next  to  say;  time  to 
invent  some  plausible  excuse  for  not  taking  Mollie  to  the  place  she 
called  "home;"  time  to  conjure  up  some  scheme  that  would  enable  him. 
to  secure  her  consent  to  the  plan  that  he  had  already  resolved  upon! 

The  hack  rolled  over  the  bridge,  and  the  time  had  come  when  he 
must  act  and  speak. 

"Darling,"  he  said,  boldly,  "we  cannot  go  to  the  hotel  to-night!" 

The  girl  raised  herself  up  quickly. 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  George,"  she  replied,  with  just  a  trifling 
tremor  in  her  voice. 

"Do  not  be  frightened  again,  my  dear,"  he  returned,  soothingly; 
"it  is  late,  very  late.  The  dance  is  over.  The  hotel  is  closed.  Every- 
body there  supposes  you  to  be  in  bed.  Should  you  go  there  now^  what 
would  they  think?  I  would  not  for  the  world  have  even  a  breath  of 
suspicion  rest  upon  you!  Trust  me!  I  am  your  true,  loyal,  loving 
friend!  I  would  not  for  all  this  world  do  anything  that  could  possibly 
injure  your  good  name !  Go  with  me  to-night !  Give  yourself  up  to  my 
charge!  Let  me  be  your  protector  and  your  friend!  Witt  you  trust  me?'1 

There  was  a  short  pause. 

Placing  her  hand  in  his,  and  laying  her  head  again  upon  his  bosom, 
the  fair  girl  softly  murmured : 

"I  WILL!V 

The  carriage  halted. 

"Here  at  last!"  exclaimed  George  Trussell,  with  delight  in  both 
speech  and  manner. 

He  assisted  her  to  alight;  and  as  they  entered  a  Clark  street  hall- 
way a  shadow  darkened  the  threshold.  Looking  up  quickly,  Trusssli 
started  as  though  a  bullet  had  been  shot  into  his  brain! 

There,  calm,  stern,  almost  ghost-like,  stood,  like  a  statue,  the 
stranger  who  had  so  mysteriously  disappeared  at  the  cemetery ! 


20 
CHAPTER  V- 


James  Parker,  fascinated  by  the  beauty  of  the  Irish  waiter  girl, 
followed  her  and  her  treacherous  companion,  as  they  left  the  gay  circle 
at  the  Matteson  House,  for  a  breath  of  outside  air.  He  did  not  intend 
to  be  rude,  and  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  attempting  to  make  their 
acquaintance;  but  he  would  be  near  the  girl  who  had  charmed  his  heart, 
and  that  at  least  would  be  a  secret  satisfaction.  He  saw  them  as  they 
slowly  walked  along  Randolph  street,  and  heard  Mollie's  shrill  call  for 
help.  But  he  was  not  quick  enough  to  save  her.  The  frightened  girl 
had  been  forced  into  the  carriage,  and  the  horses  were  on  the  jump  be- 
fore he  reached  the  scene  of  the  struggle.  He  could  not  be  of  immediate 
service,  but  he  was  a  man  of  quick  impulses,  and,  bracing  himself  for  a 
mighty  effort,  he  sprang  upon  the  rear  of  the  retreating  carriage,  and 
managed  to  remain  there  during  the  drive  to  the  cemetery.  His 
mysterious  presence,  and  the  aid  he  rendered  the  girl  who  had  been 
trapped  so  cleverly  and  carried  away  so  successfully,  have  been  narrated 
in  a  previous  chapter.  No  sooner  had  the  baffled  villains  disappeared 
than  he,  too,  stepped  out  of  sight.  He  did  not  want  to  be  thanked  by 
his  more  favored  rival.  He  did  not  want  to  be  even  known.  He  ad- 
mired George  Trussell's  bravery,  but  had  no  confidence  in  his  honor, 
and  a  pang  shot  through  his  heart  when  he  thought  that  the  stirring 
events  he  had  witnessed  and  taken  part  in  were  but  paving  the  way  to 
the  beautiful  girl's  ruin!  He  returned  to  the  city  the  same  way  that  he 
had  left  it,  having  merely  changed  carriages,  and  his  second  mysterious 
appearance  can  therefore  be  easily  explained  to  the  reader.  Though  the 
conversation  between  George  and  Mollie  had  been  carried  on  in  low 
tones,  his  quick  ear  had  heard  it  all,  and  the  startling  conviction  settled 
upon  his  mind  that  before  sunrise  the  unfortunate  girl  was  doomed  to 
a  fate  darker  than  would  have  been  hers  had  the  bold  New  Yorkers  met 
with  no  stumbling-block  in  their  villainous  scheme  of  abduction. 

What  could  he  do  ?  He  had  no  reason  to  interfere.  Irish  Mollie 
was  going  willingly,  trustingly  to  her  doom.  That  she  loved  the  gay 
gambler,  he  knew;  that  she  would  be  ruined  and  betrayed,  he  believed; 
and  yet  he  was  powerless  to  save  her  from  this  second  and  more  fearful 
peril! 

He  saw  them  alight;  he  saw  that  Trussell  recognized  him;  he  saw 
the  gambler  start;  but  he  remained  as  silent  as  one  of  those  ghostly 
tombstones  in  the  old  cemetery,  and  as  they  slowly  ascended  the  stair- 
way, and  he  heard  a  door  open  and  close,  and  an  iron  bolt  clicked  in  its 
fastenings,  his  breast  heaved  with  a  great  sigh,  that  sounded  like  the 
sob  of  an  aching  heart! 


21 

"Lost!  Lost!  Lost!"  he  murmured;  "Oh,  God!  the  poor  girl  has 
only  escaped  from  one  great  danger  to  fall  willingly  into  another,  and 
I,  who  would  die  for  her,  am  left  powerless,  utterly  and  completely 
powerless  to  protect  and  shield  her!  She  has  been  snatched  from  the 
reeking  jaws  of  the  fierce  and  furious  tiger,  to  be  charmed  by  the  irre- 
sistible spell  of  the  seductive  serpent !  Poor  girl !  poor  girl !  You  will 
waken  from  your  next  sleep  to  look  upon  a  stain  that  an  ocean  of  tears 
can  never  wipe  away!  You  are  ruined,  Irish  Mollie,  you  are  ruined! 
But  when  the  dark  days  come,  when  he  whom  you  now  love  and  trust 
has  deserted  and  cast  you  off;  when  the  lips  that  now  kiss  your  sweet 
mouth  shall  hurl  curses  at  you ;  when  your  soul  is  sick  with  horror  and 
your  eyes  are  red  and  swollen  with  weeping,  then  7  will  be  your  friend! 
Then  Jim  Parker  will  stand  up  for  you  like  a  true  man,  and  claim  a 
place  in  your  wrecked  and  bruised  affections !  He  will  watch  you  from 
clay  to  day,  from  week  to  week,  from  month  to  month,  from  year  to 
year!  He  will  be  near  you  when  your  sun  of  life  shines  brightest,  and 
will  be  nearer  when  clouds  and  shadows  and  darkness  make  your  path- 
way gloomy!  I  love  you,  Irish  Mollie,  I  love  you  madly!  I  love  you  in 
your  innocence,  and  I  will  love  you  though  the  scarlet  robe  of  shame 
shall  cover  you !  You  may  be  lost  to  me,  now,  Mollie,  but  as  sure  as 
you  and  I  both  live,  the  day  will  come  when  you  will  be  mine — all 


mine ! 


And  he  walked  sadly  away. 


CHAPTER  VL 


When  George  Trussell  turned  the  key  and  found  himself  locked  in 
the  same  room  with  an  innocent  young  girl — a  girl  who  owed  him  a 
great  debt  of  gratitude,  and  who  had  no  idea  that  a  danger  more  terrible 
than  that  from  which  she  had  escaped  confronted  her — he  had  fully  de- 
termined that  her  ruin  should  be  accomplished  before  morning,  but  had 
not  marked  out  in  his  mind  the  course  to  be  pursued  in  bringing  to  a 
successful  termination  his  villainous  scheme.  He  knew,  as  well  as  he 
knew  that  he  was  alive,  that  no  serious  difficulty  lay  in  his  path.  If  the 
victim  of  his  lust  had  not  been  so  pure,  so  innocent  and  so  trusting, 
there  might  have  been  a  grave  doubt  in  the  gambler's  mind;  but  her 
ignorance  of  the  world  and  its  dark  ways  gave  him  perfect  assurance 
that  with  his  smooth  tongue,  and  his  perfect  knowledge  of  the  seducer's 
art,  she  would  be  in  his  hands  like  putty,  that  could  be  molded  at  will. 
He  knew  that  he  was  doing  wrong,  and  his  conscience  rebelled;  but  the 


22 

baser  instincts  of  his  nature  prevailed  against  the  good;  Pity  was  stran- 
gled by  Design;  and  the  fate  of  the  poor  working  girl  was  sealed  from 
the  moment  that  her  lips  had  uttered  the  fatal  word's,  "/  will  trust 
youT 

Mollie  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed,  when  the  gas  had  been  turned  on^  "what  a 
beautiful  room!  You  must  be  a  very  rich  man!1'  And  her  eyes  wan- 
dered admiringly  from  one  article  of  furniture  to  another. 

The  room  was,  indeed,  furnished  with  regal  splendor.  Everything 
was  there  that  money  could  buy. 

Trussell  caressingly  stroked  her  fair  brow  with  his  soft  hand. 

"The  room  is  good  enough  for  me,"  he  replied,  "and  I  am  only  too 
glad  that  I  have  such  a  safe  and  comfortable  retreat  for  a  poor, 
frightened,  dear  little  friend  like  yourself!" 

The  girl  did  not  resist  the  embrace  that  followed  this  cordial  wel- 
come to  the  luxurious  home  of  her  lover.  The  spell  of  enchantment 
was  upon  her.  She  hardly  knew  whether  she  was  really  awake,  or  in  a 
dream.  But  this  sensation  soon  passed  away,  and  Irish  Mollie  com- 
menced to  run  over  in  her  mind  the  peculiar  position  in  which  she  was 
placed.  Never  before  in  her  life  had  she  been  locked  up  in  a  room  with 
a  man!  At  any  other  time,  or  under  any  other  circumstances,  she  would 
have  been  frightened  and  screamed  an  alarm,  as  she  had  done  once  be- 
fore that  night;  but  George  Trussell's  magnetic  powers  had  so  complete- 
ly fastened  themselves  upon  her  that  the  idea  of  harm  overtaking  her 
had  not  entered  her  mind. 

The  gambler  conducted  her  to  a  sofa,  and  they  sat  down,  side  by 
side,  one  of  his  arms  encircling  her  waist,  and  one  hand  clasped  in  both 
of  hers. 

"Oh,  this  will  be  real  nice!"  gleefully  exclaimed  Mollie;  we  can  sit 
here  until  morning,  and  have  a  good  long  talk,  and  then  I  can  go  orer 
to  the  hotel  and  go  to  work,  and  nobody  will  know  that  I  haven't  been 
to  bed,  the  same  as  the  rest  of  the  girls !" 

If.  Trussell's  thoughts  had  been  coined  in  words  he  would  have 
said: 

"Irish  Mollie,  you  shall  never  work  more!  You  are  to  beautiful! 
To  soil  those  little  hands  toiling,  as  do  common  girls,  shall  never  again 
be  done  while  I  live!  Your  next  sleep,  and  every  one  that  follows  it, 
shall  be  in  these  arms!  I  love  you,  sweet  angel,  and  to-night  you  shall 
be  mine  /" 

But  he  was  very  careful  not  to  say  this.  To  have  done  so  would 
have  torn  off  the  mask  of  villainy,  and  exibited  him  in  his  true  colors. 

"Oh,  yes,  we  will  have  a  nice  time!"  This  was  his  reply,  and  he 


23 

meant  every  word  of  it — meant  more  than  the  little  Irish  girl  was  cap- 
able of  understanding — meant  that  a  nice  girl  was  to  be  sacrificed  on  the 
altar  of  Lust ! 

For  an  hour  they  sat  there,  conversing  in  low  tones,  on  such  tri- 
fling matters  as  happened  to  enter  the  girl's  head.  Trussell,  who  was 
playing  a  part,  always  answered  her  questions  in  the  way  he  thought 
would  please  her  best.  He  was  worming  his  way  into  her  confidence; 
he  was  leading  her  astray  without  her  knowing  it;  he  was  creeping 
slowly  toward  the  point  that  his  cruel  heart  yearned  to  reach!  And  she, 
poor  thing!  sat  there  and  chatted  merrily,  and  submitted  to  his  coy 
caresses,  little  thinking  that  she  was  on  the  brink  of  an  awful  gulf,  in 
whose  black  depths  she  would  surely  perish! 

Trussell,  sure  of  his  prey,  was  not  impatient  to  seize  it.  He  enjoyed 
that  hour's  talk,  probably,  better  than  any  other  that  in  his  life  he  had 
ever  experienced.  He  was  infatuated  with  her  great  beauty,  and  to  be 
with  her,  to  fold  her  in  his  arms,  to  press  his  lips  to  hers,  was  in  itself 
ecstacy!  His  darker  and  baser  designs  he  could  well  afford  to  leave  for  a 
time  in  the  background.  He  was  willing  to  make  haste  slowly.  But 
all  the  time  he  was  insinuating  himself  further  and  further  into  her 
confidence,  making  bolder  advances  than  he  would  have  dared  at  first. 
His  kisses  were  hotter,  his  embraces  were  closer,  and  his  declarations  of 
love  more  ardent. 

"Mollie,"  he  inquired,  "do  you  really  believe  that  I  truly  love  you?" 

"Why !"  exclaimed  the  girl,  with  a  start,  "of  course  I  believe  it! 
Didn't  you  tell  me  so?" 

"And  do  you  love  me?" 

"I  love  you  better  than  any  one  else  in  the  world!" 

The  girl  nestled,  closer  to  his  bosom,  and  looked  trustingly  up  into 
his  eyes. 

"What  would  you  do  for  me,  Mollie?" 

"I  would  die  for  you,  George!" 

"Darling!  I  would  rather  cut  out  my  heart  than  see  you  die!  But 
there  is  something  you  can  do  for  me  that  would  give  joy  to  both  our 
hearts!  Will  you  do  it?" 

"I  will  do  anything  for  you,  dear  George !" 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?" 

"As  sure  as  that  I  am  alive  this  minute.  Tell  me  what  it  is  you 
want,  and  see  how  quickly  I  will  do  your  bidding." 

"Mollie,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  wild,  passionate  embrace,  "J  want 
your 

Irish  Mollie,  quicker  than  thougnt,  pushed  him  away,  and  sprang 
to  her  feet  with  a  scared  look. 


24 

"George!"  she  said,  reproachfully,  "oh  George!  what  do  you  mean?" 

"Do  not  be  frightened,  dear  Mollie, "  he  replied,  "for  I  meant  no 
harm.  I  mean  that  I  love  you !  I  mean  that  you  must  be  mine,  to-night, 
to-morrow  night,  the  next,  and  forever — mine  alone — all  mine  /" 

"I  do  not  quite  understand  you,"  she  responded;  but  doubt  and  fear 
had  disappeared,  and  again  she  was  at  his  side. 

"I  want  you  for  my  ivife,  Mollie/' 

"Oh,  George,  if  you  only  knew  how  happy  those  words  make  me! 
I  had  almost  commenced  to  fear  that — that — that—  eh,  dear,  I  don't 
know  what  I  did  think!" 

Another  embrace,  more  fervent  than  any  of  the  others,  followed 
Mollie's  words.  Trussell  was  advancing  rapidly. 

"Mollie,"  he  said,  "you  are  now  my  promised  wife,  and  of  course  I 
cannot  consent  to  have  you  go  back  to  the  hotel  again !" 

"Not  go  back  to  the  hotel?  Why,  I  must  go — my  clothes  are  all 
t-here." 

"Clothes?  Do  you  think  I'll  let  you  wear  those  common  duds  any 
more?  This  very  day — it  is  now  morning,  you  know — you  shall  have 
silks,  satins,  laces,  furs,  diamonds !  You  shall  have  as  good  as  any  lady 
in  Chicago!" 

Mollie's  eyes  were  wide  open  with  astonishment. 

"But  where  can  I  stay,"  she  said,  blushing  scarlet,  "until — until — 
we — are — married  ?" 

"Can't  you  stay  here?" 

"Then  where  would  you  go?" 

"There  is  room  enough  for  both  of  us!" 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

"I  could  not  consent  to  do  that,"  she  said,  still  ignorant  of  his 
meaning,  "because  it  would  not  look  well.  People  would  talk  about  it." 

"What  people?  Nobody  knows  you;  nobody  would  knew  you  are 
here." 

"But  it  would  not  be  right,  George,  /would  knowpt;  and,  George, 
God  would  know  it,  too !" 

The  gambler  turned  pale.  He,  too,  had  been  born  in  the  Catholic 
faith,  and  perhaps  the  memory  of  a  dear  mother's  teachings  flashed  for 
an  instant  across  his  mind.  But  if  such  a  blessed  sunbeam  did  light  up 
the  darkness  of  sin  that  had  been  there  many  years,  it  was  but  momen- 
tary; the  clouds  quickly  drove  away  the  rays,  and  George  Trussell,  again 
possessed  of  the  devil,  returned  to  the  attack  upon  a  weak  girl's  virtue. 

"I  will  talk  plain  to  you,  Mollie,"  he  said,  in  soft,  earnest  accents. 
"Marriage  is  but  a  mere  form — a  simple  ceremony,  that  can  be  perform- 
ed at  one  time  just  as  well  as  at  another.  Better  love  without  marriage 


OABBIB    WATSON, 
One  ol  Irish  Mollle's  Favorite  Associates. 


16 

than  marriage  without  love !  We  can  'marry  ourselves,  and  God  in  heaven 
will  seal  the  nuptials  with  His  blessing  and  His  love !  He  will  hold  ua  to 
the  contract  closer  than  can  the  customs  and  the  laws  of  man !  In  His 
sight,  after  we  have  plighted  our  troth,  and  pledged  each  to  the  other 
eternal  love,  we  are  already  married !  I  am  ready  to  make  that  t>ledge — 
are  you  ?" 

"The  man's  imploring  eyes,  his  earnest  voice,  his  pleading  expression, 
as  well  as  his  eloquent  words,  went  straight  to  the  poor  girl's  heart.  She 
believed  that  he  was  in  solemn  earnest.  She  did  not  think  that  was 
possible  for  any  human  being  to  invoke  the  aid  of  High  Heaven  in  ac- 
complishing an  act  of  villainy.  All  the  diamonds,  all  the  silks,  all  the 
treasures  that  he  could  have  piled  before  her,  as  the  price  of  her  virtue, 
would  have  been  spurned  with  scorn,  and  she  would  have  spit  in  his  face 
for  offering  them ;  but  he  had  made  his  plea  with  high  and  holy,  and 
what  she  believed  to  be  noble  arguments,  and — she  hesitated! 

Trussell  knew  that  he  nad  gained  his  cause !  It  was  not  altogether 
acting  on  his  part.  He  did  love  the  little  beauty,  and  this  love  glowed 
with  a  fiercer  fire  when  he  found  that,  deep-seated  in  her  heart,  there 
dwelt  absolute  virtue  and  perfect  purity.  Drawing  her  close  to  his 
throbbing  bosom,  he  whispered — 

"Mollie!  DearMollie!  Will  you  be  my  wife  to-night?" 

"Oh,  let  me  think,  George,  please  let  me  think !" 

"Think,  darling,"  he  replied,  passionately,  "but  think  only  of  my 
great  love!" 

"If  I  only  knew  that  it  was  right,  George,  I  would  with  a  cry  of 
joy,  fall  into  your  open  arms  and  say,  'take  me  my  darling  !  I  am  yours, 
now  and  forever!1  Way  over  across  the  deep  sea,  on  the  dear  old  Green 
Isle  where  I  was  born,  I  have  a  mother,  George!  When  I  wafls  a  little 
child,  almost  as  far  back  as  I  can  remember,  that  mother  taught  me  to 
pray!  She  taught  me,  as  I  grew  up,  to  know  right  from  wrong;  and 
when,  only  a  few  months  ago,  I  kissed  her  farewell,  she  invoked  God's 
blessing  on  my  head,  and  prayed  that  I  would  never  forget  the  teachings 
of  my  childhood!  lMollie,  darling,'  she  said,  'when  you  are  far  away 
from  your  old  mother,  in  far-off  America,  and  hour  of  temptation  may 
come,  perils  may  surround  you,  and  dark  days  may  hover  over  and  around 
you !  Never  listen  to  the  voice  of  the  tempter,  as  you  value  your  moth- 
er's blessing  and  as  you  fear  her  curse!'  Oh,  George  Trussell,  could  you 
be  that  tempter?  Could  you  lure  me  to  an  act  which  would  not  be  right, 
and  that  would  call  down  on  my  poor  head  the  curses  of  the  mother  that 
brought  me  into  the  world?" 

The  child-woman's  face  was  livid;  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes;  in 


27 

all  her  life  she  nad  never  been  so  thoroughly  excited  by  the  thoughts 
that  rushed  wildly  through  her  brain. 

Trussell  never  hesitated  a  moment. 

"I  too,  had  a  mother  once,"  he  said,  impulsively,  "but  she  has  laid 
many,  many  years  in  her  grave!  The  daisies  have  blossomed  and  drooped 
many  times  since  I  saw  her  dear  face.  Before  she  died,  she  gave  me  a 
little  Bible,  as  a  sacred  keepsake  by  which  to  remember  her.  That  Bible 
is  now  in  this  room.  Let  us  kneel  together  before  it  now !  Let  us  kiss 
its  dear  lids,  and  swear  to  forever  love  and  cherish  each  other,  to  live 
only  for  each  other,  and  to  be,  from  this  hour,  henceforth  and  forever, 
MAN  AND  WIFE!" 

"But  this  must  not  be  the  only  ceremony,  George  ?  The  Priest  must 
also  unite  us?" 

"Yes,  as  soon  as  you  can  be  suitably  prepared  for  the  happy  event." 

"And  you  will  swear  to  that,  also,  on  your  mothers  last  gift?" 

"I  will,  I  will!" 

"George,"  cried  Mollie,  "I  believe  you,  I  love  you,  I  will  trust  you! 
We  will  take  the  oath.  I  AM  YOUBS,  ALL  YOURS!" 

In  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  winter's  night,  with  no  one  looking 
at  them  save  the  All-Seeing  Eye,  George  Trussell  and  Mary  Grossgrove* 
were  made  one.  Kneeling1  together  in  the  presence  of  the  Maker,  with 
His  word  before  them,  they  took  the  oath  of  fealty,  and  declared  them- 
selves one  flesh.  On  her  part,  she  firmly  believed  that  she  was  doing 
right,  and  that  the  ceremony  in  the  Church,  that  her  lover  had  agreed 
to,  was  but  a  mere  formality.  On  his  part — well,  let  us  charitably  be- 
lieve that  he  intended  to  fulfill  every  pledge  he  made. 

After  the  oath  had  been  taken,  George  Trussell  saluted  Mollie  with 
a  kiss. 

"You  are  MY  WIFE  now,"  was  his  exultant  greeting. 

"And  you  MY  HUSBAND,"  she  returned,  with  the  light  of  a  great  love 
in  her  blue  and  truthful  eyes. 

Opening  a  door  leading  to  another  room,  George  Trussell  threw  up 
his  arms,  Mollie  buried  her  head  in  his  bosom,  and  he  carried  her  to 
what  she  firmly  believed  to  be  her  bridal  couch. 

The  gambler  and  libertine  had  triumphed. 

IRISH  MOLLIE  WAS  LOST  ! 


*The  right  name  of  "Irish  Mollie". 


28 
CHAPTER  VII. 


Jim  Parker,  though  he  did  not  expect  to  see  her,  watched  eagerly 
for  the  appearance  at  the  hotel  of  Irish  Mollie  on  the  morning  after  the 
exciting  adventures  in  which  he  had  participated.  He  knew  in  his  heart 
that  she  would  never  come  there  again.  He  knew,  as  well  as  though  his 
own  eyes  had  witnessed  everything  that  had  taken  place,  that  Irish 
Mollie  was  a  ruined  girl.  He  knew  that  she  had  taken  the  step  that, 
once  made,  can  never  be  retraced.  He  knew,  too,  that  she  had  been  de- 
ceived, and  there  was  a  lurking  hope  in  his  bosom  that,  when  the  charm 
of  TrusseH's  presence  should  be  broken,  a  feeling  of  revulsion  would  find 
a  place  in  her  heart,  and  she  would  turn  upon  the  gambler  with  that 
indignation  and  loathing  that  the  great  crime  against  her  merited.  It 
was  a  strange  sensation  that  he  experienced  that  morning.  He  was  in 
love  with  a  girl  he  had  never  spoken  to  in  his  life,  and  who  was  even- 
then,  he  had  not  the  slightest  doubt,  pressed  close  to  another  man's 
breast!  What  would  be  the  outcome,  he  did  not  know;  but  he  had  firmly 
concluded  in  his  mind  that  he  would  form  the  acquaintance  of  the  peer- 
less little  beauty,  that  he  would  be  her  friend  at  all  times,  and  that  he 
would  persevere  patiently  and  heroically  until  his  devotion  should  finally 
be  rewarded. 

He  waited  in  vain.  He  heard  the  clock  strike  nine  and  ten  and 
eleven,  and  then  strolled  out,  not  entirely  aimlessly,  but  with  no  settled 
purpose  in  view.  Naturally,  his  footsteps  led  him  in  the  direction  of  the 
place  where  he  had  last  seen  the  object  of  his  thoughts.  Halting  on  the 
west  side  of  Clark  street,  directly  opposite  the  hallway  where  Trussell 
and  Mollie  had  disappeared,  he  raised  his  eyes,  and  involuntarily  started 
back,  while  a  great  pain  shot  through  his  heart;  for  there,  looking  down 
into  his  face,  stood  the  beautiful  Irish  Mollie — beautiful  still,  but  pure 
no  more !  The  stain  of  sin  was  on  her  then,  and  it  never  could  be  wiped 
out !  This  was  the  dagger  that  seemed  to  sink  into  his  bosom  as  though 
it  were  literally  cold  steel,  and  not  "a  dagger  of  the  mind."  Trussell 
also  was  there,  and  the  eyes  of  the  two  men  met,  with  a  stare  that  neither 
of  them  ever  forgot;  it  was  so  earnest,  so  intense,  so  suggestive  of  trouble 
to  come. 

"Mollie,"  said  Trussell,  "do  you  know  that  maa  ?  Is  he  a  friend  of 
yours?" 

UI  have  seen  him  at  the  hotel,  George,  but  I  never  spoke  to  him,  and 
he  does  not  know  mey  except  perhaps  by  sight,"  was  Mollie's  answer. 

The  gambler  did  not  volunteer  any  information  concerning  the 
events  of  the  night  before,  and  the  strange  interest  manifested  by  the 
mysterious  man  in  behalf  c"  the  waiter  girl;  but  he  was  well  aware  that 


29 

he  was  not  -without  a  rival,  and,  he  feared,  a  dangerous  one.  He  had 
given  up  all  idea  of  marriage,  relying  upon  his  wonderful  powers  of  per- 
suasion to  put  the  poor  girl  off  from  time  to  time,  until  the  matter  would 
die  out,  and  never  again  be  spoken  of  or  thought  about.  He  had  no  idea 
then  of  being  untrue  to  her,  but  marriage — well,  it  was  an  inconveni- 
ence that  he  did  not  care  to  encumber  himself  with.  Why  should  he 
marry?  Had  he  not  already  secured  a  husband's  place  in  her  affections, 
and  had  he  not  already  received  the  great  gift  that  none  but  a  husband 
should  receive ?  His  ideas  of  morality  were  loose.  He  had  won  a  girl, 
and  to  "keep1'  her  was,  in  his  way  of  thinking,  all  that  could  reasonably 
be  expected  of  him.  The  oath  that  he  had  taken,  and  that  was  regarded 
by  the  ignorant  girl  as  sacred,  had  already  nearly  faded  out  of  his  mem- 
ory- 
Reminding  Mollie  of  the  presents  he  had  promised  her,  he  kissed 
'her  good  bye,  and  descended  to  the  street.  Trussell  was  not  disappointed 
when,  at  the  foot  of  the  stairway,  he  met  the  stranger.  He  felt  that  a 
meeting  was  unavoidable,  and  did  not  shrink  from  it,  for  George  Trus- 
sell was  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  lived,  and  was  always  ready  to  meet 
friend  or  foe,  and  settle  his  disputes  in  a  manly  way.  He  was  a  gambler, 
a  libertine,  and  a  bad  man  in  many  ways,  but  he  was  not  a  coward.  Ad- 
vancing without  hesitation,  he  confronted  Jim  Parker. 

"We  seem  to  meet  under  somewhat  strange  circumstances,"  he  said, 
by  way  of  introducing  himself,  and  continued:  "If  these  encounters  are 
really  accidental,  it  is  indeed  wonderful;  and  if  otherwise,  we  may  as 
well  understand  each  other  now  as  at  any  time.  For  your  timely  as- 
sistance at  a  critical  time  last  night,  I  feel  in  honor  bound  to  thank  you; 
but  I  don't  like  to  be  watched,  to  be  dogged  about  the  streets  by  any- 
body, and  I  now  ask  you,  plainly  and  frankly,  why  you  take  so  much 
interest  in  my  affairs,  and  watch  so  closely  my  movements.  You  will 
find  me  a  square  man.  I  talk  to  you  now  bluntly  and  honestly,  the 
same  as  I  would  like  to  have  anybody  talk  to  me.  I  want  to  like  you;  I 
want  to  be  jrour  friend,  and  will  be  if  you  will  let  me.  But  we  must 
have  no  mystery — we  must  understand  each  other  thoroughly,  at  the 
start!" 

What  could  Parker  say?  Trussell  had  never  wronged  him,  and  the 
affairs  of  that  night  were  really  none  of  his  business ;  but  he  well  knew 
that  the  gambler  had  taken  advantage  of  Irish  Mollie's  innocence  to  se- 
duce her,  and  this  knowledge  stirred  up  all  the  indignation  that  was 
in  him. 

"I  will  tell  you  candidly,  George  Trussell,"  he  said  with  a  hard, 
cold,  stern  look  out  of  his  honest  eyes,  "that  you  and  I  can  never  be 
friends." 


30 

"Then  we  may  as  well  be  enemies!" 

Trussell  glared  at  the  man  in  a  half  savage  way.  He  was  nettled, 
and  wished  to  let  the  other  know  it,  without  any  evasion  or  equivo- 
cation. 

"Very  well,  sir,"  replied  Parker,  hotly,  "let  it  be  understood,  from 
this  out,  that  you  and  I  are  as  cordial  and  sincere  enemies  as  were  ever 
men  before!  You  are  a  scoundrel,  and  the  day  will  come  when  Jim  Par- 
ker will  call  you  to  the  front  and  exact  from  you  a  terrible  settlement." 

The  man  turned  upon  his  heel  and  walked  away  without  giving 
Trussell  an  opportunity  to  reply.  He  did  not  care  to  engage  in  a  street 
encounter  just  then,  as  he  knew  must  be  the  case  if  the  controversy  of 
words  was  kept  up. 

Trussell  looked  after  him  wonderingly,  and  for  the  life  of  him  he 
could  not  understand  why  a  stranger  should  feel  toward  him  that  way; 
but  he  was  not  disturbed  by  fears  of  serious  results,  and  proceeded  on 
the  errand  that  he  had  started  out  to  accomplish. 

When  Jim  Parker  reached  the  corner  of  Randolph  street  he  stopped. 
His  mind  was  almost  paralyzed.  He  did  not  know  what  to  do.  For 
more  than  a  minute  be  stood  there,  hesitating  whether  to  go  forward  or 
retrace  his  steps.  Then  his  thoughts  seemed  to  settle  down;  he  became 
calmer,  and  if  his  lips  had  uttered  what  his  heart  dictated,  this  is  what 
he  would  have  said:  "Irish  Mollie  cannot  be  held  morally  responsible 
for  what  she  has  done.  She  has  hardly  arrived  at  years  of  discretion.  I 
ought  to  have  interfered  in  her  behalf  last  night.  Then  I  could  have 
saved  her.  This  man  Trussell  has  accomplished  his  unmanly,  cowardly, 
cruel  purpose,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  not  very  many  days  hence,  he 
will  be  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  cast  her  off.  Then — oh !  then  she  shall 
be  mine — mine  to  protect,  mine  to  cherish,  mine  to  love!  Let  George 
Trussell  ever  give  me  that  right,  let  me  ever  stand  in  the  position  that 
he  does  now,  and  God  help  the  man  who  shall  attempt  to  step  across  my 
path!  I  will  wait  as  patiently  as  I  can.  I  will  avoid  Trussell,  because 
otherwise  I  might  murder  him.  But  I  will  never  be  far  from  the  lovely 
girl  he  has  ruined  and  will  surely  betray.  The  little  Irish  waiter  girl 
will  never  be  far  from  a  friend  who  will  stick  to  her  with  all  the  power 
that  his  manhood  can  command! 

In  joy  or  pain,  on  sea  or  shore, 
I'll  love  you,  Mollie,  evermore! 

It  may  only  require  days  or  weeks,  and  it  may  be  months  and  years  be- 
fore my  hopes  are  realized,  but  as  sure  as  there  is  a  God  it  will  come,  it 
will  come,  and  I  can  wait,  I  can  wait !" 

He  little  thought  how  soon  the  hour  would  approach  in  which  his 
friendship  and  his  courage  would  be  put  to  the  test! 


/?    31 
CHAPTER  VIII. 


Two  weeks  from  the  night  on  which  our  Romance  commences, 
Irish  Mollie  sat  in  a  cushioned  chair,  in  the  room  were  she  was,  as  she 
at  the  time  believed,  married.  Trussell  had  more  than  fulfilled  his  pro- 
mise to  clothe  her  in  silks.  She  wore  the  most  brilliant  diamonds,  and 
the  most  fashionable  and  costly  garments.  Nothing  was  lacking  that 
would  make  her  wonderful  beauty  more  enchanting.  She  was,  PS  she 
sat  there,  toying  with  a  trinket  that  George  had  given  her,  as  perfect  a 
specimen  of  womanhood  as  ever  the  admiring  eyes  of  man  rested  upon. 
So  thought  George  Trussell,  who  was  half  reclining  on  a  sofa,  dividing 
his  attention  between  the  evening  paper  in  his  hand  and  the  companion 
he  had  so  recently  sworn  to  make  his  wedded  wife.  The  gambler  thought 
he  perceived  a  shadow  on  her  face. 

"Has  anything  gone  wrong  with  you  to-day?"  he  inquired,  in  the 
soft  accents  he  knew  so  well  how  to  use. 

"Nothing,  George,"  she  replied,  going  to  his  side  and  caressingly 
throwing  around  him  her  arms,  "but  for  all  that,  I  do  not  feel  as  happy 
as  I  shall  feel  very  soon." 

"If  there  is  anything  that  I  can  do  that  will  bring  joy  to  your 
heart,  tell  me,  and  it  shall  be  done.  Do  you  want  money,  Mollie?" 

"Oh,  no,  my  darling;  I  have  more  money  this  minute  than  I  ever 
had  before  in  my  life.  But  happiness  cannot  be  bought,  no  more  than 
can  grief  be  dispelled  with  a  price." 

Trussell  kissed  her. 

"Tell  me  what  it  is,  then,"  he  said,  "that  drives  the  sunshine  from 
the  fair  brow  of  my  little  angel  wife." 

"You  will  not  be  offended?17 

"I  can  never  be  offended  at  anything  that  you  may  say  to  me,  be- 
cause I  know  that  there  is  only  love  and  goodness  in  your  heart,  dear 
Mollie!" 

"It  is  two  weeks  to-day,  George,  since  I  first  met  you." 

"And  they  have  been  the  happiest  two  weeks  of  my  life,"  he  added, 
enthusiastically. 

"And  I,  too,  have  been  very,  very  happy,"  she  continued;  "indeed,  I 
never  knew  before  what  perfect  happiness  was." 

Mollie  hesitated,  seeming  to  be  at  a  loss  for  words  with  which  to 
express  her  thoughts.  A  second  of  silence,  sometimes,  seems  a  long 
time.  Trussell,  who  had  no  idea  as  to  what  was  coming,  waited  for  an 
explanation.  She  finally  resumed: 

"George,  my  dear  and  only  love,"  she  said,  earnestly,  "/  have  been 
to  confession  t*-dayl" 


The  man  started  as  though  he  bad  been  stabbed,  and  turned  pale. 

"I  hope  you  did  not  mention  this  matter  between  you  and  I?"  lie 
said,  breathlessly  awaiting  an  answer. 

"Why,  how  could  I  help  it?"  she  inquired,  wonderingly.  "You 
know  that  we  are  required  to  lay  bare  our  hearts,  and  that  I  would  be  a 
sin  of  sins  to  wickedly  withhold  anything  that  we  have  done." 

"I  did  not  think  you  would  do  such  a  thing  without  consulting  me 
first,"  said  the  gambler,  with  just  a  little  of  reproach  in  his  voice;  "but 
now  that  you  have  done  it,  tell  me  all — what  did  the  Father  say  to  you?" 

"He  told  me  that  /  was  not  a  wife  /" 

Trussell's  agitation  was  so  great  that  he  could  not  conceal  it. 

"Well,  what  else  ?"  he  asked  nervously. 

"He  explaned  to  me  that  t  had  done  wrong,  but  that,  as  I  did  not 
know  it,  the  sin  was  not  so  great  as  it  would  have  been  had  I  knowingly 
erred." 

With  a  great  effort,  George  Trussell  shook  of  the  spell  that  un- 
nerved him,  and  braced  himself  up  for  the  unpleasant  interview  that  he 
knew  could  not  be  avoided.  Thinking  that,  possibly,  Mollie  would  pur- 
sue the  subject  no  further,  he  pressed  his  lips  to  hers  in  a  tender  kiss 
and  said  soothingly: 

"Never  mind,  my  dear,  everything  will  be  all  right  very  soon.  I 
am  sorry  that  this  has  ocurred,  but  I  do  not  blame  you,  and  we  will  say 
no  more  about  it.  Would  you  like  to  go  to  the  theatre  this  evening, 
dear?" 

"But,  George,  I  have  something  more  to  say  to  you — something 
very  important — very  serious,  too." 

"Oh,  never  mind;  some  other  time  will  do  as  well.  Let's  goto  lunch 
now." 

"Some  other  time  will  not  do,"  replied  the  girl  firmly,  "and  it  will 
not  take  me  a  minute  to  tell  it,  for  it  is  only  this — you  and  I  must  be 
married  to-night!" 

"Why  this  haste,  dear?"  said  Trussell,  persuasively,  "we  have  been 
living  together  two  weeks  already,  and  another  week  or  two  wouldn't 
make  any  difference,  would  it?" 

"Oh,  yes!  The  Father  told  me  that  if,  after  knowing  I  was  doing 
wrong,  I  continued  our  intimacy,  I  would  be  no  more  nor  less  than  a 
prostitute !  He  said  that  I  must  bring  you  to  him  this  very  night,  that 
he  miglit  marry  us  and  bless  us!  Shall  we  go  now,  George?" 

"Not  quite  yet,  Mollie!  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  cannot  go  to-mgnt, 
but  I  will  in  a  few  days,  and  then  all  can  be  forgiven,  and  we  will  be 
none  the  worse  for  the  delay." 


34 

9' 

"No,  no,  no!"  she  exclaimed,  bursting  into  tears,  "tnere  must  be  no 
delay!  You  must  marry  me  to-day!1' 

"Supposing  I  should  say  that  I  will  not  do  it?" 

Trussell  spoke  harsher  than  he  had  ever  done  to  her  before. 

"Oh,  George!  you  cannot,  you  dare  not  say  that!" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  could  do  so  easily;  and  as  to  daring,  why,  I  dare  do 
anything!" 

"Dare  you  break  a  poor  girl's  heart?  Dare  you  throw  her  onto  the 
world  with  the  mark  of  shame  that  you  have  put  there  ?  Dare  you  break 
that  oath?" 

Irish  Mollie  stood  erect  as  she  said  this,  the  color  mounted  to  her 
Tery  temples,  and  her  eyes  gleamed  with  a  fire  that  had  been  strangers 
to  them  before. 

Trussell  was  losing  his  temper.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  that  he 
would  not  marry  the  girl  he  had  seduced,  and  there  was  no  argument 
strong  enough  to  make  him  change  that  resolution. 

"I  do  not  care  to  have  a  scene  just  now,"  he  said,  coldly,  "and  to 
avoid  one  I  am  going  out.  If  you  will  go  with  me,  your  society  woultf 
be  very  pleasant,  if  you  choose  to  make  it  so." 

t  At  that  instant  there  came  to  Irish  Mollie  a  revelation.  Her  love^ 
stood  before  her  like  a  transparency.  She  could  look  clear  down  into 
his  heart.  She  could  see  that  she  had  been  decoyed  to  ruin  and  shame. 
She  knew  that  the  man  who  had  sworn  a  solemn  oath  to  be  her  hus- 
band, had  done  so  with  the  intention  of  breaking  it.  She  knew  that,  if 
she  continued  to  live  with  him,  it  would  be  as  mistress  but  never  as 
wife! 

"George  Trussell,"  she  exclaimed,  passionately,  "you  have  lied  to 
me!  You  have  deceived  me!  You  have  brought  upon  me  shame!  You 
have  ruined  my  body  and  murdered  my  soul !  You  have  made  me  a  wan- 
ton! I  ought  to  fall  down  on  my  knees  and  curse  you!  I  ought  to  take 
you  by  the  throat  and  strangle  you  to  death !  But  I  will  not,  for  I  love 
you!  Oh,  George,  I  love  you  better  than  honor,  good  name,  religion  or 
life!  You  have  seduced  me,  and  I  forgive  you!  You  have  debauched  me, 
and  I  bless  you !  George !  take  me,  press  me  to  your  heart,  and  keep  me 
there  forever — do  you  hear,  George,  my  George  forever!  If  you  will  not 
let  me  be  your  wife,  I  will  be  Irish  Mollie,  THE  GAMBLER'S  MISTRESS!" 

She  fell  into  TrusselFs  outstretched  arms,  but  quickly  started  back 
in  alarm ;  for  there,  not  three  feet  away,  with  arms  folded,  looking  at 
them  calmly  with  eyes  of  steel,  stood  Jim  Parker. 


S5 

CHAPTER  IX. 

George  Trussell  was  never  so  astonished  in  his  life  as  he  was  when, 
turning  quickly,  he  saw  confronting  them  an  intruder — and  an  intruder 
whom,  of  all  others,  he  wished  to  avoid.  A  thousand  thoughts  rushed 
through  his  mind  in  a  second's  time.  Prominent  among  these  was  the 
fact  that  Jim  Parker  had  heard  the  impassioned  declaration  of  Irish 
Mollie  that  she  would  willingly  become  the  gambler's  mistress. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  with  anger  in  voice  and  look,  "how  came  you  here, 
and  what  do  you  want?" 

"How  I  came  here  is  a  matter  of  no  importance;  why  I  came  you 
shall  soon  know!" 

"I  ought  to  throw  you  out  o£  the  window  for  your  impudence," 
Trussell  replied,  "but  I  will  wait  and  see  what  you  have  to  say  first. 
And  say  it  quickly,  too,  for  I  am  in  no  humor  for  needless  talk  now!' 

"Do  you  remember,  George  Trussell,  what  took  place  the  last  time 
you  and  I  met?" 

"I  believe  I  have  an  indistinct  recollection  of  meeting  you."  was  the 
cold  reply. 

"And  what  did  I  tell  you?" 

"I  really  don't  recollect,  and  certainly  don't  care !" 

"Perhaps  you  will  care,  though,  and  for  your  information  I  will 
tell  you  what  I  said.  I  told  you  that  you  was  a  scoundrel,  and  that  the 
day  would  come  when  Jim  Parker  would  call  you  to  the  front  and  exact 
a  terrible  settlement!" 

"And  I  suppose  I  am  left  to  infer  that  you  have  come  here  now  to 
settle?" 

Trussell's  terrible  temper  was  fast  getting  control  of  his  senses,  his 
face  was  livid,  and  he  trembled  with  excitement. 

Irish  Mollie,  during  all  this  time,  stood  back  like  one  in  a  trance, 
hearing  all  that  was  said,  but  powerless  to  stir  or  speak. 

"George  Trussell,"  said  Parker,  calmly,  with  great  self-control,  "I 
did  not  come  here  to  quarrel.  If  you  will  listen,  I  would  like  to  tell  you 
a  little  story.  After  that,  you  can  act  at  your  pleasure  as  to  any  further 
intercourse  between  you  and  I." 

"Go  on  with  your  story,  but  make  it  short,"  replied  the  gambler, 
with  almost  a  sneer,  and  a  trifle  of  sarcasm  in  his  voice. 

"I  will  make  it  as  short  as  I  can,  and  I  beg  you  to  listen  with  all 
calmness,  and  as  attentively  as  you  may.  Not  many  months  ago,  many 
thousand  miles  from  here,  there  lived  an  aged  man  and  woman,  surroun- 
ded by  a  family  of  children.  Their  home,  it  is  true,  was  but  a  rude  hut, 
and  Poverty  and  Want  were  its  most  frequent  guests.  But  they  were 


26 

honest  people,  who  rallied  their  virtue  as  above  price,  who  labored  hard 
for  the  scant  necessities  of  life,  and  whose  brightest  hope  was  the  gleam 
of  sunshine  that  came  to  them  from  the  far,  far  West — the  land  that 
they  had  been  told  was  the  home  of  the  free,  where  there  were  no  oppres- 
sors1 heel-prints,  and  where  honest  industry  was  sure  to  meet  with  just 
reward.  One  of  the  children  of  this  couple  that  fortune  had  so  frowned 
upon,  was  a  young  girl.  She  was  fair,  and  it  was  their  pride,  as  they 
caressingly  stroked  her  smooth  brow  and  wound  her  silken  hair  about 
their  fingers,  to  call  her  their  little  Rosebud.  She  was  very,  very  dear 
to  them ;  and  when,  one  day,  an  opportunity  came  for  this  loved  darling 
to  sail  for  the  land  they  all  hoped  some  time  to  reach,  though  it  almost 
broke  their  hearts  they  gave  her  a  last  kiss,  a  last  fond  embrace,  and  bid 
her  God  speed  on  the  journey  that  was  to  decide  her  destiny  for  life,  and 
perhaps  for  eternity !  She  was  an  ignorant  little  girl,  but  as  innocent  as 
she  was  ignorant,  as  pure  as  she  was  beautiful.  Time  wore  on ;  the 
great  ocean  was  crossed,  and  soon  thereafter  half  a  continent  was  tra- 
versed. It  was  in  the  winter  time.  The  untutored  and  unlettered  child 
sought  and  readily  obtained  employment,  and  sent  back  to  her  old  home 
the  cheering  news  that  she  would  be  soon  able  to  aid  those  who  were  so 
dear  to  her.  That  was  then  the  main  object  of  her  existence;  and  when, 
after  the  labor  of  the  day  was  over,  and  she  had  remembered  in  her  pray- 
ers those  who  were  so  fair  away,  she  laid  her  head  upon  her  pillow,  and 
slept  the  sweet  and  untroubled  sleep  of  innocence,  the  dream-god  carried 
her  with  lightning  speed  across  land  and  water,  she  saw  again  the  dear 
faces  at  home,  she  talked  with  father,  mother,  sister,  brother,  and  she 
awoke  refreshed  and  happy.  One  day  this  little  girl's  eyes  fell  upon  a 
man  whom  she  greatly  admired.  He  was  a  man  of  the  world,  fluent  of 
speech,  elegant  in  attire  and  manners,  and  in  every  way  calculated  to 
win  the  affections  of  any  woman.  To  this  fresh  flower  he  was  simply 
perfection.  Fortune  favored  him.  A  great  danger  threatened  her.  He 
was  a  brave  man  in  the  hour  of  peril;  but  he  was  a  coward  when,  that 
very  night,  with  arguments  that  to  her  simple  mind  seemed  plausible, 
he  succeded  in  seducing  her!  He  took  an  oath,  and  broke  it!  And  she, 
poor  thing!  learning  at  last  that  she  had  been  betrayed,  threw  herself  on 
that  man's  breast  and  declared  that  she  would  be  his  mistress!  Another 
man — a  true  man — had  seen  and  loved  her!  Though  he  was  entitled  to 
equal  credit  with  his  more  favored  rival  when  she  was  assaulted  by  and 
rescued  from  ruffians,  he  put  forward  no  claim,  for  he  knew  that  his 
love  was  hopeless!  He  listened  to  words  that  he  knew  were  false,  and 
that  came  from  a  false  heart!  He  knew  that  the  being  he  loved  would 
coiue  to  ruin  and  shame,  but  he  had  no  means  of  averting  that  calamity ! 
Days  and  weeks  passed,  and  then  he  confronted  this  man  in  the  precence 


37 

of  the  child  he  had  debauched,  determined  to  demand  from  him 
And  now,  George  Trussell,  he  appeals  to  you!  Think  of  this  girl's  inno- 
cence! Think  of  her  poor  old  father  and  mother!  You  can  save  her,  you 
can  save  them!  Be  a  man,  George  Trussell,  and  go  with  me  now  to  a 
place  where  you  and  Irish  Mollie  can  be  made  man  and  wife!" 

The  earnest  and  eloquent  words  of  Jim  Parker  had  a  wonderful  ef- 
fect upon  Irish  Mollie,  and  the  allusions  to  her  home  in  dear  old  Ireland 
brought  a  flood  of  tears  to  her  eyes.  This,  too,  was  the  first  intimation 
that  she  had  received  that  another  than  Trussell  loved  her.  She  looked 
upon  Parker,  and  could  not  but  admire  him;  but  as  for  love — ah!  she  had 
that  only  for  her  George ! 

Trussell,  also,  was  deeply  moved,  and  his  conscience  smote  him;  but 
this  feeling  was  only  momentary.  He  turned  like  a  tiger  upon  his  ac- 
cuser, and  for  a  moment  the  two  men — one  convulsed  with  terrible  ex- 
citement and  the  other  calm  as  a  summer  morning — stood  face  to  face! 

Irish  Mollie,  young  and  inexperienced  as  she  was  in  the  world  and 
its  ways,  was  quick  to  perceive  that  there  was  danger  when  two  deter- 
mined men  met  under  such  strange  circumstances.  She  knew  that  the 
words  uttered  by  Jim  Parker  were  true,  and  for  his  efforts  in  her  behalf 
she  felt  grateful.  Had  there  been  no  George  Trussell,  a  warmer  feeling 
than  gratitude  might  have  stirred  her  heart;  but  she  had  surrendered  her 
all  to  the  gambler — she  had  linked  her  fate,  for  better  or  worse,  with  his, 
and  there  was  no  escape.  With  genuine  Irish  impulse  she  jumped  be- 
tween the  two  men,  because  she  believed  that  the  next  argument  would 
be  one  of  blows.  Throwing  her  arms  around  TrusselFs  neck,  she  turn- 
ed to  Parker  and  exclaimed,  pleadingly: 

"For  the  love  of  heaven,  sir,  please  go  away!  For  all  that  you  have 
done  for  me  I  thank  you — but  if  you  remain  here,  to  cause  trouble  that 
could  do  no  one  good,  I  shall  hate  you  to  your  dying  day!  Go,  now,  for 
your  own  and  for  my  sake!" 

Jim  Parker,  had  he  been  made  of  iron,  could  not  have  maintained 
more  perfect  composure.  Contrary  to  what  most  men  would  have  done, 
he  submitted  to  the  plea  of  the  girl  he  loved,  but  before  he  turned,  in 
passionless  voice  he  said: 

"For  yoar  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  your  respect  and  regard,  I  will 
go !  But  I  will  see  you  again !  I  will  see  you  often !  I  will  watch  you ! 
I  will  be  your  friend!" 

Trussell  did  not  attempt  to  stop  him — and  thus  the  two  men  parted. 

To  give  the  details  of  the  life  of  Irish  Mollie  for  the  few  years  that 
followed  would  be  a  monotonous  story.  She  soon  became  a  wom^a  of 
the  town,  frequently  quarreling  with  Trussell,  and  receiving  from  him, 
on  occasions,  blows  as  cruel  as  they  were  cowardly.  Her  life  was  such 


as  is  experienced  by  the  unfortunates  of  all  cities,  and  but  for  more  ex- 
citing events  that  followed,  the  story  of  Irish  Mollie  would  now  be  near- 
ly complete.  As  it  is,  the  real  romance  in  the  life  of  this  beautiful 
woman  is  yet  to  be  told. 


CHAPTER  X. 


On  Monroe  street,  not  a  stone's  throw  from  the  present  site  of  a 
great  dry  goods  emporium,  there  stood  in  the  summer  of  1864  a  neat 
two-story-and-basement  brick  dwelling.  The  exterior,  to  a  passer,  would 
not  indicate  anything  strange  or  peculiar  about  the  house  or  its  inmates. 
Everything  was  modest,  and  there  seemed  to  have  been  a  studied  effort 
to  make  the  appearance  of  the  establishment  entirely  respectable.  There 
were  no  flaming  red  window  curtains  (peculiar  to  disreputable  houses 
in  those  day,)  no  glaring  figures  over  the  transom  of  the  door.  On  the 
silver  plate  was  the  only  indication  of  a  suspicious  nature.  Cut  in  plain 
letters  were  the  words, 

"MISS  LOU  HARPER. " 

To  those  who  are  familiar  with  the  criminal  history  cf  Chicago  as 
far  back  as  that  date,  the  fact  need  not  be  stated  that  the  house  describ- 
ed was  what  was  then  considered  a  magnificent  palace  of  sin.  It  and 
one  kept  on  Buffalo  street  (now  Fourth  avenue)  by  a  woman  named 
Delia  Waterman,  were  the  two  most  notable  resorts  for  the  vicious  in 
the  Garden  City.  There  were  many  others,  it  is  true,  but  these  were  the 
fashionable  dens.  One  of  them,  though  much  reduced  in  status,  still 
stands ;  the  other  fell  a  victim  to  the  devouring  fiend  on  that  Red  Mon- 
day of  October,  1871. 

It  was  in  the  walls  of  this  house  that  the  scene  to  which  this  chap- 
ter of  our  story  is  devoted  was  enacted. 

The  second  story  of  the  house  was  divided  into  bed  rooms,  some 
large  and  airy,  and  others  with  more  limited  quarters.  The  front  room 
was  usually  occupied  by  Harper  and  a  gambler  named  Ben.  Burnish ;  but 
on  this  occasion  two  entirely  different  personages  were  its  inmates. 

Reclining  languishingly  upon  a  tet-a-tete,  attired  in  costly,  flashy, 
tasty  apparel,  was  a  young  and  beautiful  woman.  Tall,  queenly,  majes- 
tic, without  a  single  defect  to  mar  tne  symmetry  of  her  figure,  with 
heavy,  silken  brown  hair  flowing  in  tresses  over  faultless  shoulders,  with 
eyes  neither  blue  nor  gray,  but  rather  hazel  in  their  hue,  with  a  neat, 
small  foot  encased  in  worked  slippers  and  silk  hose,  with  bare  arms,  as 
fair  and  plump  and  white  as  the  eyes  of  man  ever  rested  upon,  Mollie 


39  * 

Trusseli  was  indeed  beautiful.  No  woman  in  Chicago,  in  high  life  or 
low,  could  compare  with  her,  when,  in  the  parlor  or  on  the  street,  she 
chose  to  display  her  loveliness  of  features  and  perfection  of  form. 

The  years  that  had  passed  over  Irish  Mollie's  head  since  she  first 
met  the  man  whose  name  she  had  taken,  had  developed  even  greater 
loveliness  than  was  hers  at  the  time  of  the  opening  of  our  romance,  and 
she  was  universally  regarded  as  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  the  Wes- 
tern country.  She  had  lived  with  Trusseli,  as  his  "woman,"  ever  since 
that  fateful  night,  the  events  of  which  have  already  been  recorded  in 
this  true  tale.  He  had  treated  her  kindly  at  times,  humoring  her  whims, 
lavishing  upon  her  freely  the  money  he  had  won  at  the  gaming  table, 
and  endeavoring  in  every  way  he  could  to  make  the  handsome  girl  happy; 
but  there  were  times  when,  flushed  with  liquor,  sometimes  from  the  in- 
fluence of  "hard  luck"  at  cards,  he  was  morose,  irritable,  ugly — and 
then  Irish  Mollie  did  not  escape  abuse  and  frequently  blows  at  his 
hands. 

At  the  corner  window,  facing  Monroe  street,  in  an  easy  chair,  with 
a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  with  one  hand  stroking  a  thin  chin  whisker, 
while  with  the  other  he  toyed  with  the  ermine  tassel  of  the  rich  curtain, 
sat  George  Trusseli,  the  celebrated  sporting  man.  He  was  looking  list- 
lessly in  the  direction  of  the  dreary  old  gas  house,  but  his  mind  was  not 
there.  He  was  absorbed  in  deep  thought. 

"George !"  said  Mollie,  awakening  from  her  apparent  stupor,  and 
arousing  from  what  seemed  to  be  an  indifferent  feeling  of  something 
akin  to  ennui. 

"Well,"  was  the  response,  and  the  gambler  turned  his  keen  eyes  full 
upon  his  mistress,  with  an  inquiring  look. 

"I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  George — something  serious — some- 
thing that  has  been  on  my  mind  for  a  long  time!" 

There  was  a  faintly  perceptible  frown  upon  Trussell's  usually  com- 
placent face  as  he  said: 

"Well,  unbosom  yourself;  say  anything  and  everything  that  you 
may  wish!  You  and  I  may  as  well  come  to  an  understanding  now  as  at 
any  time/' 

His  tone  was  not  menacing,  but  cold  and  harsh,  and  there  was  a 
cruel,  mocking  glitter  in  his  clear  blue  eyes. 

The  flushed  face  of  Irish  Mollie  with  the  quickness  of  thought  as- 
sumed an  ashen  pallor,  but  with  an  effort  she  subdued  the  angry  words 
that  were  struggling  for  utterance,  and  she  calmly  spoke: 

"George,  can  you  remember  as  far  back  as  eight  years?" 

The  gambler  started,  but  the  only  words  he  uttered  were — 

"Yes,  lean!1' 


40 

"I  am  glad  you  have  not  forgotten,"  returned  the  woman,  with 
forced  composure.  "Perhaps,  then,  you  can  recall  to  mind  what  occur- 
red between  you  and  I  at  your  room  on  the  night  of  that  ball  at  the 
Matteson  house?" 

"Mollie!  for  God's  sake,  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  rehearse  that 
old,  old  story  of  yours!" 

"George  Trussell!" — the  woman  spoke  with  a  sharp,  shrill  voice — 
"I  am  going  to  speak  to  you  of  what  you  choose  to  term  that  old,  old 
story!  It  was  not  old  then,  George!  0,  no!  The  poor  little  Irish 
waiter  girl,  whose  fair  face  then  caught  your  eyes,  was  fresh!  She  was 
innocent!  She  was  as  pure  then  as  she  is  impure  to-day!  Her  young 
heart  knew  no  guile,  her  feet  had  not  turned  from  the  paths  of  virtue ! 
She  was  ignorant;  she  was  friendless;  she  was  a  waif,  with  no  mother  to 
direct  her  thoughts,  no  father  or  brother  to  avenge  her  wrongs!  With 
your  fine  words,  your  lavish  attentions,  your  magnificent  presents,  you 
won  the  little  waiter's  first  and  only  love.  You  seduced  her!  But  that 
deed  was  not  accomplished  without  a  promise-raw  oath — made  upon 
your  dead  mother's  Bible,  and  registered  now  in  Heaven !  Do  you  re- 
member what  that  oath  was?" 

There  was  a  grandeur  in  that  woman's  every  look  as  .she  arose  and 
confronted  the  abashed  gambler,  her  eyes  burning  like  coals  of  fire,  and 
her  voice  quivering  with  the  excitement  that  the  eftort  had  produced. 

"Really,  Mollie,  you  are  getting  excited  without  a  cause.  Come, 
now,  be  a  good-natured  girl,  and  don't  look  so  savage.  Let  me  order  a 
bottle  of  wine  now,  and  let  us  make  up  ov.er  the  sparkling  bowl  that 
cheers." 

Trussell  made  a  movement  toward  the  door,  with  the  intention  of 
calling  for  the  che&ring  beverage. 

"Stop!"  cried  the  woman,  with  a  commanding  gesture  of  the  arm, 
"Wine — accursed  wine — has  no  power  to  quiet  the  fire  that  burns  here!" 
and  she  wildly,  almost  frantically,  clasped  her  jeweled  hands  over  her 
left  breast. 

Trussell  making  no  answer,  she  continued: 

"You  well  remember  the  promise  that  you  made.  You  said  that 
you  would  marry  me.  You  SWOKE  I  should  be  your  lawful  wife!  Dur- 
ing all  these  years  I  have  waited,  vainly  waited  for  you  to  redeem  your 
pledge.  I  suffered  the  pains  that  none  but  a  wife  should  suffer.  I  have 
borne  you  a  child,  George  Trussell — a  bright,  beautiful  boy.  He  is  now 
only  a  few  miles  from  here,  and,  oh,  God,  can  I,  his  mother,  say  it — he  is 
A  BASTARD!" 

The  gambler  groaned,  but  the  agony  was  only  momentary.  Livid 
with  rage,  white  with  passion,  with  his  clenched  fist  he  struck  the  wo- 


42 

man  a  powerful  blow  in  the  face,  and  she  reeled,  tottered,  and  fell  her 
full  length  upon  the  carpet,  as  the  enraged  man  slammed  the  door  and 
rushed  into  the  street! 

The  fair  cheek  of  the  woman  was  crimsoned  with  blood,  a  dark  cir- 
cle gathered  about  her  eyes.  Slowly  she  arose,  glanced  at  her  face  in  a 
large  mirror,  and,  looking  more  like  a  fiend  than  the  acknowledged 
beauty  of  Chicago,  she  muttered  between  her  teeth: 

"J  love  that  man,  BUT  i  WILL  HAVE  A  TERRIBLE  REVENGE!  He  shall 
strike  Irish  Mollie  down  but  once  more  /" 

Turning  from  the  mirror  that  reflected  a  picture  of  hate,  she  stag- 
gered back  with  surprise,  and  a  crimson  flush  shot  like  lightning  to  her 
cheeks.  Another  instant,  and  she  was  closely  clasped  to  the  heaving 
bosom  of  a  man! 


CHAPTER  XL 


A  strange  sensation  made  the  bosom  of  Irish  Mollie  throb  wildly 
and  fiercely  when,  having  been  cursed  and  struck  to  the  floor  by  the 
man  she  loved,  she  found  herself  folded  in  the  arms  of  another!  She 
sobbed  like  a  grief-stricken  child,  and  for  a  brief  space  the  two  who  had 
met  under  such  peculiar  and  painful  circumstances  remained  silent — 
the  one  smarting  from  the  effects  of  a  cruel  blow  and  the  remembrance 
of  a  great  wrong,  the  other  moved  to  pity  by  the  tears  that  rained  upon 
his  breast,  and  goaded  to  anger  by  the  assault  of  the  cowardly  ruffian, 
who  years  before  had  won  the  love  of  the  sweet  little  Irish  girl  that  he 
then  held  in  his  strong  arms. 

After  the  violent  exhibition  of  feeling  had  passed,  Jim  Parker 
spoke. 

"Mollie,"  he  said,  "my  dear  girl,  I  would  to  God  I  had  been  here 
one  minute  sooner!1' 

"And  I  thank  heaven  that  you  were  not,"  she  replied,  with  a  pow- 
erful effort  to  control  her  emotion. 

"Why  not?  Why  is  it  that  you  would  spurn  the  protection  of  a 
true  friend,  when  assaulted  and  bruised  as  you  were  just  now  by — " 

"Stop !  I  will  not  listen  to  one  word  against  him  I  George  Trus- 
sell  and*l  have  been  all  that  man  and  woman  can  be  to  each  other!  He 
has  loved  me,  he  does  love  me!  And  I?  Why,  I  worship  him!  Were 
it  not  for  him,  and  the  hope  of  a  happier  day  to  come,  the  lake  or  the 
dark  river  would  before  another  hour  has  passed  closed  o^er  me-  and  hid** 
the  shame  that  is  upon  me!" 


43 

Jim  Parker's  lips  quivered,  and  a  sigh  that  came  from  the  bottom 
of  his  heart  told  that  he  was  suffering  a  pang  greater  than  any  bodily 
affliction  could  produce.  Then  he  spoke: 

"Mollie!  there  is  another  who  loves  you  with  an  affection  deeper 
and  truer  than  any  gambler  is  capable  of  feeling!  There  is  one  who 
would  sooner  tear  out  his*  arm  at  the  socket  than  strike  you,  and  who 
would  pull  out  his  tongue,  roots  and  all,  before  he  would  curse  you! 
There  is  one  who  loves  you  at  morning,  at  noon  and  at  night!  His  de- 
votion is  as  true  and  lasting  as  any  ever  felt  by  man  for  woman!  He 
loved  you  before  you  fell  into  the  toils  of  a  libertine !  Week  after  week, 
month  after  month,  year  after  year  he  has  watched  you  with  a  jealous 
eye  and  aching  heart,  and  with  the  full  knowledge  of  your  shame  he 
loves  you  still!  Nothing  on  earth  can  wipe  out  that  love!  He  will  fol- 
low you  to  the  ends  of  the  world!  He  will  cling  to  you  wherever  you 
may  be,  whether  in  palace  or  hovel,  silks  or  rags!  Mollie!  that  man 
stands  before  you  now!  Spurn  him,  curse  him,  drive  him  from  you  if 
you  will,  but  when  he  goes  he  leaves  his  heart  behind!" 

Mollie  Trussell  did  not  spurn  him,  nor  drive  him  away.  But  she 
released  herself  from  his  embrace,  and  appeared  wonderfully  calm  for  one 
who  had  so  recently  been  controlled  by  a  passion  that  was  maniacal  in 
its  fury. 

"Be  seated,  my  good  friend,"  she  said,  "and  I  will  try  and  talk  to 
you  as  a  sister  would  talk  to  a  dear  brother." 

Jim  Parker  mechanically  obeyed,  and  Mollie,  taking  his  hand  in 
hers,  sat  at  his  side  on  the  sofa. 

"There  are  times  in  people's  lives,"  she  said,  "when  all  the  world 
looks  blacker  than  the  darkest  night,  and  life  seems  a  burden  too  heavy 
to  bear.  When  you  came  here,  so  short  a  time  ago,  you  found  me  des- 
perate, reckless,  in  the  midst  of  a  great  trouble.  At  that  moment  I  was 
capable  of  committing  murder,  had  any  weapon  that  would  kill  been 
within  my  grasp.  Thank  God  there  was  none,  and  now  you  see  how 
calm  I  am!  That  you  love  me,  I  know;  that  you  have  loved  me  long,  I 
have  felt  in  my  heart— and  oh,  I  wish  you  could  know  how  sorry  I  am 
for  it!  Though  a  bad  woman,  I  am  a  true  one.  To  love  you  in  return 
would  be  impossible.  I  shall  always  feel  for  you  kindly,  and  wish  you 
that  happiness  that  may  never  be  mine;  but  further  than  that  you  must 
not  ask,  you  cannot  hope!  The  destiny  of  Irish  Mollie,  as  they  call 
me,  is  fixed.  I  am  a  child  of  misfortune,  and  what  my  fate  may  be  I 
dare  not  think.  The  future  is  a  blank,  and  I  cannot  read  it.  It  may 
be  full  of  sunshine,  and  it  may  be  a  never-ending  shadow !  If  you  love 
me,  as  you  say,  go  away  from  me  now,  and  leave  me  to  joy  or  to  misery, 
whichever  it  may  be!  Do  not  speak  and  make  me  more  unhappy  than 


44 

I  am,  but  go,  and  forget  that  you  erer  met  the  girl  who  would  love  you 
if  she  could,  but  who  could  not  if  she  would!" 

Mollie  avoided  the  look  of  pain  that  she  knew  was  upon  his  face,  as 
she  motioned  him  away. 

"Give  me  one  kiss  before  I  go,"  he  pleaded  with  faltering  voice. 

"No,  no,  no!  Irish  Mollie  sells  kisses  to  strangers,  but  she  can  give 
them  but  to  one!" 

Jim  Parker  said  no  more.  Cut  to  the  heart,  he  left  the  room  as 
suddenly  as  he  had  entered  it ! 

Once  more  a  crimson  flood  rushed  to  the  fair  but  disfigured  face, 
and  Irish  Mollie  was  convulsed  with  the  terrible  thoughts  that  preyed 
upon  her  mind !  Once  more  she  was  almost  a  maniac ! 


CHAPTER  XIL 

Irish  Mollie  was  confined  to  her  room  tor  several  days  with  the  to- 
ken of  affection  which  she  had  received  at  the  hand  of  her  passionate 
lover.  As  is  almost  invariably  the  case  among  those  who  live  as  they 
did,  the  violent  outburst  was  not  succeeded  by  lengthened  estrange- 
ment. Abuse  her  as  he  might,  and  sometimes  did,  George  Trussell 
loved  that  woman.  In  his  life  of  adventure  he  had  met  and  associated 
on  terms  of  intimacy  with  hundreds  of  women,  but  not  one  of  then* 
had  ever  made  other  than  a  temporary  impression  on  his  heart.  But  he 
could  not  banish  Mollie.  Her  smile  was  the  one  that  charmed  his  soul, 
her  caress  was  the  sweet  enjoyment  by  the  side  of  which  all  others  fad- 
ed. Whenever  they  quarreled,  the  whole  nature  of  the  man  was  chang- 
ed. He  could  not  sleep,  he  could  not  enjoy  the  society  of  his  friends. 
He  was  nervous,  ill-tempered,  irritable  and  uncompanionable;  and  at 
such  times  it  was  his  invariable  custom  to  drink  deep  and  incessantly, 
and  in  that  manner  attempt  to  drown  recollection,  and  destroy  the 
burning  thoughts  that  haunted  his  disturbed  mind. 

The  great  imperishable  love  of  the  desperate  gambler  was  recipro- 
cated to  an  extent  seldom  manifested  on  the  part  of  woman.  Had  peril 
threatened  her  lover,  Irish  Mollie  would  have  laid  down  her  life  to  save 
him.  Her  whole  soul  was  wrapped  up  in  him,  and  not  even  brutality 
and  blows  could  drive  away  such  fervent  love. 

When  anger  had  subsided,  tears  and  remorse  followed.  For  hours 
she  vrould  lay  upon  her  bed,  and,  unmindful  of  the  aching,  bandaged 
head,  forgetful  of  the  bruised  and  bloodshot  eyes,  weep  and  mourn,  and 
sob,  and  call  pitifully  and  frantically  for  her  George — her  darling. 


45 

Sometimes  the  separation  would  be  for  a  week,  sometimes  a  month. 

About  two  months  subsequent  to  the  altercation  recorded  in  a  pre- 
vious chapter,  George  and  Mollie  were  seated  in  the  same  room.  The 
old  beauty  had  all  returned,  and  not  a  scar  remained  to  tell  the  .tale  of 
trouble.  Upon  her  face  there  was  a,  gentle,  winning,  loving  smile,  and 
the  gambler,  as  he  gazed  with  admiration  and  love  upon  the  peerless 
woman,  was  the  happiest  man  in  the 'universe. 

Both  had  forgotten  and  forgiven  all. 

"Darling,"  said  George,  placing  one  arm  around  her  slender  waist 
and  drawing  her  closer  to  his  side,  "I  am  going  away." 

The  woman  turned  a  shade  paler,  and  her  eyes  sought  his  with 
something  like  alarm  in  their  expression. 

"Going?"  she  inquired  falteringly,  "where  are  you  going,  George?" 

"To  Buffalo/1  he  replied;  "the  races  take  place  there  next  week,  and 
I  can't  afford  to  remain  away.  I  expect  to  make  a  big  stake,  and  when 
I  come  back  I  shall  be  owner  of  the  fastest  .horse  that  ever  trod  the 
turf — the  great  Dexter!  If  money  can  purchase  him  he  shall  be  mine!" 

"Can't  I  go  too,  George?"  said  Mollie,  while  unwilling  tears  were 
fast  gathering  in  her  eyes. 

"My  dear,"  was  the  prompt  reply,  "nothing  in  the  world  would 
give  me  greater  pleasure  than  to  have  my  own  beautiful  Mollie  near  me 
all  the  time.  But  on  this  trip  I  shall  be  so  entirely  engaged  in  business 
that  you  would  be  sadly  neglected,  and  could  not  enjoy  yourself  as  'I 
should  like  to  have  you.  At  the  race  course  in  the  day  time  and  at 
the  faro  bank  at  night,  I  shall  have  my  hands  and  head  full,  and  let  us 
hope,  when  it  is  over,  I  shall  have  my  pockets  full  also." 

Mollie  saw  that  there  was  reason  in  what  he  said,  and  did  not  ex- 
press a  further  wish  to  go. 

But  something  troubled  her  mind.  George,  too,  was  indulging  in 
deep  thought. 

They  sat  thus  for  a  few  moments,  when  Mollie  broke  the  silence: 

"George!" 

His  only  reply  was  with  an  inquiring  inflection: 

"Mollie— darling?" 

"Before  you  go,  George,  will  you  take  AN  OATH?" 

"1  will  do  anything  to  please  you,  Mollie.'' 

"I  will  ask  for  nothing  that  I  am  not  willing  to  return.  Let  us 
take  an  oath  of  jealty,  one  to  the  other!" 

"It  is  the  very  request  that  I  would  have  made  to  you!  Where 
shaD  Ave  take  it,  and  hoiv?" 

"Here,"  she  said,  taking  from  a  drawer  in  her  dressing  table  a  small 
Bible;  "let  us  take  it  on  this?" 


"I  am  ready,"  were  the  gambler's  next  words. 

In  the  perfect  stillness  of  that  room,  out  of  the  reach  of  scenes  of 
revelry  below,the  gambler  and  his  mistress  knelt  upon  the  carpet,  clasp- 
ed hands  over  that  little  Bible,  aaid  took  this  terrible  oath: 

"We  two,  George  and  Mollie  Trussell,  call  on  the  great  God  above 
to  witness  that,  now,  henceforth  and  forever,  we  will  be  true  to  each 
other!  Kneeling  here,  with  the  Holy  Bible  in  our  hands,  we  swear 
never  to  be  false  to  this  our  vow!  We  will  be  to  each  other  as  MAN"  and 
WIFE,  and  may  whichever  proves  false  to  this  oath  be  paralyzed  on  the 
instant,  and  never  receive  forgiveness  for  a  single  earthly  sin.  So  HELP 
us  GOD!" 

They  kissed  the  Bible,  arose,  embraced,  and,  gambler  and  prostitute 
though  they  were,  wept  like  children. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


When  George  and  Mollie  Trussell  took  the  solemn  oath  of  fealty, 
in  one  of  the  upper  parlors  of  Lou  Harper's  house  of  infamy,  both  of 
them  were  in  earnest,  and  both  pledged  secretly  in  their  hearts,  as  they 
had  done  in  words,  that  the  oath  should  be  kept.  There  was  a  strange, 
almost  unaccountable  bond  of  union  between  these  two  beings.  That 
they  loved  each  other  truly  and  devotedly,  there  is  no  doubt.  Then 
why;  the  reader  will  ask,  did  they  not  marry  ?  The  question  can  be  an- 
swered in  but  one  way.  George  Trussell  was  not  a  man  of  refinement, 
or  of  c«4ture.  He  was  a  coarse,  vulgar  man  of  the  world — a  gambler 
who  ha<!  not,  as  some  gamblers  have,  the  refined  and  delicate  sensibilities 
that  prevail  in  good  society.  Mollie  Trussell,  though  she  looked  like  a 
queen,  was  in  fact  but  a  simple,  unlettered  Irish  girl.  She  could  neith- 
er read  nor  write,  and  graduated  from  the  dining-room  of  a  hotel  to  a 
brothel.  With  such  coarse,  vulgar  natures,  the  necessity  of  a  marrige 
did  not  present  itself  with  such  force  as  it  would  under  more  civilizing 
circumstances.  When  they  traveled,  it  was  as  man  and  wife;  at  home, 
among  those  who  knew  them,  it  was  the  gambler  and  his  woman.  And 
yet  they  loved! 

Trussell,  as  he  had  contemplated,  departed  for  the  races  at  Buffalo, 
after  having  kissed  Mollie  an  affectionate  good-by. 

"Remember  your  promise — your  oath — George,  dear,"  was  Mollie's 
parting  salutation. 

"And  remember  that  you  do  not  forget,"  was  the  half-playful,  half- 
serious  reply. 


47 

He  had  promised  to  be  back  in  a  week.  The  telegraph  had  brought 
news  daily  of  the  exciting  contests  on  the  turf,  and  not  one  in  this 
great  city  listened  to  the  reading  of  the  particulars  with  more  intense 
earnestness  than  did  Irish  Mollie.  The  last  day's  race  was  recorded,  and 
then  the  news  came  over  the  wires  that  George  Trussell  had  purchased 
a  half  interest  in  the  great  Dexter — the  king  of  the  turf  and  the  mar- 
vel of  the  age. 

Two  weeks  had  passed,  and  Mollie,  with  a  female  companion,  Ida 
Preston  by  name,  was  sitting  in  the  lower  parlor. 

"It  is  strange,1'  said  Mollie,  "that  he  does  not  come  back  as  he 
promised,  or  that  he  does  not  even  write.  I  have  not  had  a  single  line 
from  him  since  he  went  away." 

"Have  you  inquired  at  the  postoffice  ?"  suggested  Ida,  the  compan- 
ion of  the  dejected  fair  one. 

"Every  day  regularly,  until  to-day,  and  a  short  time  ago  I  sent  a 
messenger  to  inquire  for  me." 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  a  young  African,  grinning  at 
iiis  success,  held  out  a  daintily-enveloped  missive,  directed,  "Miss  Mollie 
Trussell." 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Mollie,  as  she  seized  the  letter,  "he  has 
not  forgotten  me!  Here  is  news  from  George  at  last!  Oh,  read  it  for 
me,  Ida — read  it  quick!  I  am  dying  to  hear  every  word  this  precious 
sheet  contains!"  And  she  nervously  tore  off  the  envelope,  and  handed 
the  letter  to  her  companion. 

"But  oh,  how  short  it  is!"  she  continued,  with  a  grieved  tone  and 
look;  "he  certainly  ought  to  find  time  to  send  his  Mollie  a  little  longer 
letter  than  that!  Why,  a  tailor's  dun.  could  hardly  be  so  brief!" 

While  Mollie  had  been  talking  Ida  had  glanced  over  the  letter,  and 
had  read  the  signature. 

"This  is  not  from  George,  Mollie,"  she  said. 

"Not  from  George  I  Not  from  my  darling?  Why,  Ida,  who  is  it 
from,  then?" 

"It  is  merely  signed  'A  Friend,'  and  no  name  is  at  the  bottom." 

A  shadow  of  disappointment  passed  over  the  face  of  the  beautiful 
courtesan,  and  with  a  tremulous  voice  she  said;  "Read  it!  Read  it!" 

Ida  Preston  then  read  as  follows : 

CLEVELAND,  Ohio,  Aug.  25, 1866. — Mrs.  Trussell:  As  a  true  friend, 
I  deem  it  my  duty  to  inform  you  of  facts  that  I  am  sure  Avill  be  un- 
pleasant, but  that  my  conscience  tells  me  you  ought  to  know,  because  I 
am  aware  of  the  oath  of  fealty  between  yourself  and  George  Trussell, 
taken  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  for  Buffalo.  Mollie,  I  grieve  to  tell 
you,  George  has  broken  his  oath !  He  is  false  to  you !  A  Buffalo  girl 


48 

came  here  with  him,  and  they  are  registered  at  the  hotel  as  man  and 
wife!  He  will  leave  for  Chicago  with  his  new-found  loye  in  two  or 
three  days.  If  you  are  the  woman  I  take  you  to  be,  you  will  ascertain 
for  yourself  whether  I  speak  the  truth.  I  will  telegraph  you  the  day 
and  the  hour  that  he  will  reach  Chicago.  Yours  faithfully, 

A  FBIBND. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  Mollie  Trussell,  as  Ida  Preston, 
with  slow  and  measured  voice,  read  this  cruel  message.  The  color  for- 
sook her  face,  and,  rigid  as  a  marble  statue,  without  a  single  tremor,  she 
gazed  with  glassy  eyes  upon  the  scrap  of  paper  that  conveyed  intelli- 
gence of  such  dreadful  import.  For  a  full  minute  the  peerless  beauty 
stood  thus;  then,  clutching  the  arm  of  her  companion,  she  said  in  a 
hoarse  and  unnatural  whisper: 

"Ida!  Is  that  a  hoax?  Is  some  one  trying  to  play  on  my  affec- 
tions? Do  you  believe  what  you  have  read?" 

"I  really  cannot  say,"  replied  Ida.  "but  it  is  possible  that  such  may 
be  the  case." 

"Possible!     Is  it  not  probable?     0,  tell  me  you  think  it  a  lie!" 

"How  can  I  tell  ?  This  friend,  whoever  he  may  be,  tells  you  to 
wait  and  watch,  and  promises  to  advise  you  of  the  day  and  hour  when 
George  will  arrive  with  his  new  girl.  If  he  does  this,  you  will  have  no 
trouble  in  arriving  at  the  truth/' 

"I  will  wait — I  will  watch  /"  was  Mollie's  response,  as  she  fell  upon 
the  sofa  and  gave  vent  to  a  violent  outburst  of  sobs  and  tears. 

Ida,  who  sympathized  deeply  with  her  friend,  quietly  left  the  apart- 
ment. She  was  a  child  of  misfortune  herself,  and  knew  how  vain 
would  be  the  attempt  to  administer  consolation  in  that  hour  of  grief 
and  woe. 

A  week  elapsed,  and  no  further  tidings  had  been  received  from  the 
unknown  informant.  Mollie  Trussell  did  not  want  to  believe,  but  she 
could  not  suppress  a  doubt  at  her  heart,  an_d  it  may  be  imagined  that  the 
days  and  nights  did  not  afford  her  that  pleasure  that  would  have  been 
hers  had  the  letter  of  a  week  before  been  a  loving  epistle  from  her  faith- 
ful heart's  idol.  Whenever  the  bell  rang,  day  or  night,  even  far  in  the 
morning,  she  was  at  the  top  of  the  hall  stairway,  watching  with  eager 
eyes  for  the  appearance  of  George — or,  if  fate  would  hare  it  that  way, 
for  the  dreadful  dispatch  that  had  been  promised. 

It  came  at  last! 

On  the  3d  day  of  September,  a  lad  from  the  telegraph  office  rang 
the  bell  of  219,  and  handed  the.  housekeeper  a  dispatch  addressed  as  tkc 
other  had  been. 


JUST  BEFOEE  THE  TEAGEDY. 
Mollie   Trussell  Preparing  to   Meet  Her  Lover  on  the  Night  of  his  Death. 


Again  Ida  Preston  was  called  upon,  and  the  faithful  girl  trembled 
as  she  read  the  following: 

CLEVELAND,  Ohio,  Sept.  3,  1866. — Mottle  Trussell:  George  will 
reach  Chicago  at  3  o'clock  to-morrow  afternoon.  His  girl  is  with  him. 

A  FRIEND. 

The  shock,  though  not  unexpected,  was  none  the  less  terrible. 

"OA,  my  God!"  These  words  were  uttered  in  accents  of  utter 
despair,  and  poor  Mollie  would  have  fallen  to  the  floor  had  it  not  been 
for  the  strong-armed  housekeeper. 

When  she  returned  to  consciousness,  a  deep  sigh  escaped  from  a 
grief-burdened  breast,  but  that  was  all.  Apparently  she  had  marked 
out  her  course  while  in  a  condition  of  unconsciousness,  and  with  a  look 
cf  stern  determination — a  dangerous  look — she  proceeded  to  her  room 
and  closed  the  door. 

"If  this  is  false,  God  forgive  the  author!  If  it  is  true,  God  have 
mercy  on  George  Trusselfs  soul!"  she  said,  as,  without  disrobing,  she 
cast  herself  upon  the  bed,  hid  her  face  in  the  soft  pillows,  and  abandon- 
ed herself  to  the  black  thoughts  that  madly  coursed  through  her  excited 
brain. 

In  a  condition  of  utter  prostration  tired  nature  gave  away,  and 
troubled  sleep  came. 

Her  mind,  however,  was  at  work  in  the  land  of  dreams.  Youth  and 
innocence  were  restored.  The  mother  that  she  loved  pressed  the  beau- 
tiful and  pure  young  girl  to  her  heart,  blessed  her,  and  chanted  the 
sweet  lullabys  of  dear  old  Ireland.  Then,  in  the  miraculous  transfor- 
mations peculiar  to  dreams,  the  scene  changed,  and  George  Trussell 
came  wooing.  Oh,  his  words  were  smooth,  his  voice  was  soft,  his  arms 
caressed  her,  his  lips  met  hers,  and  she  was  as  happy  and  as  contented 
as  only  a  woman  can  be  who  has  truly  loved — and  a  true  woman  never 
loved  but  once !  Then  darkness  came;  clouds  gathered;  she  saw  her 
lover  in  the  arms  of  another,  and  hideous  phantoms  mocked  her  tears 
of  anguish !  He  who  had  loved  renounced  her  with  curses,  and — Mol- 
lie Trussell  awoke! 

It  was  broad  daylight.  The  almost  crazed  woman  looked  in  the  large 
aiirror,  and  started  back  in  horror!  Was  that  the  beautiful  Irish  Mollie 
of  a  month  ago,  or  was  it  a  fiend  who  had  come  to  taunt  her?  The 
change  was  indeed  terrible.  The  outlines  were  the  same,  the  form  was 
there,  but  in  the  face  there  was  a  lurking  devil,  so  fiendish  in  his  look 
that  she  herself  shuddered  as  she  gazed  upon  the  reflection  that  con- 
fronted her. 

'This  is  my  day  of  destiny,11  she  said,  as  she   bathed  hef  feverish 
temple,  and  arranged  as  well  she  could  her  disordered  garments  and  dis- 


51 

heveled  hair.  "If  Oeorge  Trusseil  is  true  to  me  he  shall  feel  how  loving 
are  my  caresses,  how  fervent  my  kisses !  But  if  he  is  false,  he  shall  be 
made  to  feel  how  a  scorned  woman  can  hate,  and  how  an  Irish  girl  can 
avenge  her  wrongs!" 

At  11  o'clock,  Mollie,  calm  and  apparently  at  peace  with  all  the 
world,  breakfasted  with  the  other  girls. 

The  meal  over,  she  invited  Ida  Preston  to  her  room.  Motioning 
the  latter  girl  to  a  seat  at  her  side,  she  said: 

"Ida,  I  believe  you  are  my  friend." 

"You  know  I  am,  Mollie,"  was  the  earnest  reply. 

"Then  you  must  prove  that  friendship  to-day.  I  shall  meet  George 
at  the  Michigan  Southern  depot  at  3  o'clock.  If  he  has  that  girl  with 
him,  Ida,  I ivill  kill  him!" 

Ida  Preston  turned  pale  as  she  saw  how  terribly  in  earnest  was  her 
friend. 

"It  may  be  all  a  mistake,"  she  said;  "perhaps  George  is  escorting 
the  wife  of  a  friend  to  the  city.  There  are  a  thousand  circumstances 
under  which  he  might  come  with  a  woman,  and  yet  be  true  to  you. 
You  should  not  act  rashly  on  mere  suspicion,  Mollie.  Be  certain  first, 
and  then  let  the  guilty  suffer." 

"You  are  right,"  replied  Mollie,  "and  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  ad- 
vice. I  will  go  to  the  depot  disguised.  I  will  watch  George  as  a  cat 
would  watch  a  mouse.  I  will  follow  him  wherever  he  may  go,  like  a 
shadow;  and  when  I  am  sure,  when  I  know  that  he  is  false,  then  Ida, 
Mollie  Trassell  will  act?  Will  you  be  my  friend  in  this  matter?  Will 
you  go  with  me,  and  stand  by  me?" 

"I  will  go  with  you,  advise,  and  be  true  to  you,"  was  the  reply  of 
the  affectionate  girl — and  the  two  prostitutes  embraced  each  other  with 
a  tenderness  seldom  witnessed  within  the  walls  of  a  house  of  evil  name 
and  bad  deeds. 

At  precisely  3  o'clock,  the  shrill  shriek  of  a  locomotive  was  heard, 
and  the  passenger  train  from  the  East  came  thundering  into  the  dilapi- 
dated depot  that  then  stood  on  the  site  of  what  is  now  the  grandest 
railroad  statioji  in  the  West. 

Among  the  first  to  alight  was  the  celebrated  sporting  man,  George 
Trusseil.  But  he  paid  little  attention  to  the  score  of  friends  who  had 
assembled  to  greet  him  on  his  return.  A  young  lady — a  girl  of  tender 
years  and  great  beauty — followed  him,  and  the  gambler  quickly  hailed 
a  hackman. 

"Drive  to  the  Tremont  House,"  were  his  orders  to  the  driver,  while 
to  the  woman  he  remarked  in  low  and  tender  accents,  "let  us  hurry  out 


52 

<>f  tliis  crowd,  pet,  for  I  don't  want  the  boys  to  know  any  tiling  about 
this!" 

Two  heavily  veiled  wromen  were  within  a  foot  of  him  as  he  said 
this,  and  they  both  heard  every  word. 

Mollie  Trussell  held  a  dagger  in  her  right  hand,  and  half  raised  it, 
to  strike  a  deadly  blow,  but  Ida  Preston  seized  her  arm  and  whispered: 

k'Wuitl  This  is  not  the  time,  nor  is  it  the  place.  Give  him  a 
chance!  Perhaps  he  can  explain.  He  may  be  at  the  house  within  an 
hour.  Come,  let  us  go  home,  and  make  ready  to  receive  him." 

"I  will  go  home;  I  will  wait  for  explanations;  I  will  pray^that  all 
may  be  well — but  I  hav^  no  hope,  Ida,  no  hope !  And  I  swear  to  you, 
and  to  my  God  above,  that  George  Trussell  will  either  come  back  to  me 
or  li/.-t  nc.t't  sleep  will  be  eternal!''1 

These  fearful  words  were  uttered  in  low  tones,  but  the  girl  who 
heard  them  shuddered  at  their  terrible  earnestness,  as  she  walked  slowly 
back  to  Madame  Harper's  home  of  luxurious  debauchery. 

The  two  women  were  not  the  only  ones  in  disguise  who  shadowed 
the  footsteps  of  the  great  gambler  on  that  eventful  day.  A  man — the 
"friend"  who  had  sent  the  letter  and  the  dispatch— was  within  a  foot 
of  Mollie  and  Ida,  watching  with  quick  eyes  every  movement  of  the 
Irish  Queen.  Who  \vas  he?  What  was  his  object?  We  shall  see. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


After  herself  and  Ida  Preston  arrived  at  their  home  on  Monroe  street,  oa 
Hie  afternoon  of  the  4th  of  .September,  1866,  Mollie  locked  herself  in  herv  room 
(in  the  rear  of  the  building,  the  entrance  a  little  north  of  the  head  of  the  stair- 
way,) and,  reclining  upon  the  outside  of  the  bed,  gave  herself  up  to  thoughts 
like  these: 

"What  shall  I  do  V"  she  muttered,  "what  shall  I  do V"  My  George  is  false 
tome!  He  has  broken  his  oath !  That  puny  little  girl  is  his  pet!  I  heard 
him  with  his  smooth  tongue,  call  her  sweet  names!  She  has  not  lived  with 
him  for  more  than  nine  years,  as  I  have,  and  she  is  fresh  and  attractive  now! 
Curse  her'  Curse  him!  Curse  all  who  stand  between  Irish  Mollie  and  the 
man  she  loves  I  I  would  have  been  true!  I  would  have  died  before  I  would 
have  broken  my  oath!  But  I  love  George  Trussell,  false  as  he  is,  deceitful  as  he 
is!  I  luve  hiui  so  well  that  I  swear  by  the  God  who  made  us  both  that,  unless 
he  returns  with  me  to-night,  he  shall  lie  in  my  arms  a  corpse!  I  have  the  re- 
volver George  presented  to  me  to  protect  myself  from  burglars!  1  will  take  it, 
I  will  array  myself  in  the  best  I  have,  and  no  one  can  wear  better!  I  will  glit- 
ter with  diamonds!  1  will  show  him  how  beautiful  Irish  Mollie  can  make 
herself,  and  how  comiupn  in  comparison  is  his  other  love!  I  will  go  out  and 
find  him;  I  will  speak  to  him  in  accents  of  the  most  tender  love,  wherever  I 
find  him;  I  will  tell  him  the  heart  of  his  Mollie  is  breaking!  I  will  tell  him 
that  at  the  Notre  Dame  University  there  is  another  George  Trussell  that  I  have 
borne  him;  I  will  call  up  all  the  old  and  the  sweet  memories  of  the  past; I  will 
kneel  before  him  and  cling  to  him,  and  beg,  and  pray!  If  all  these  fail;  if  he 
spurns  me;  if,  he  says,  'Mollie,  leave  me,'  I  will  thro'w  off  the  mantle  of  love 
and  submission,  and  put  on  the  garb  of  hate  and  vengeance  I  The  weapon  that 


53 

he  gave  me  shall  send  every  tmllet  that  it  contains  to  his  false  heart!  I  will 
shoot  him  down  like  the  dog  that  he  is!  If  I  cannot  have  him  alive;  if  he  will 
not  come  to  me,  warm  and  Fender  in  the  flesh,  he  shall  not  go  to  that  other  wo- 
man, except  as  a  corpse!" 

With  such  thoughts  in  her  mind,  and  with  such  words  on  her  lips,  the  ex- 
cited woman  remained  in  her  room  for  more  than  three  hours.  She  then  sum- 
moned Ida  Preston  once  more. 

"Ida," she  said,  "where  is  my  pistol — the  revolver  George  gave  me?" 

"It  is  in.your  bureau,  Mollie — but  surely  you  are  not  going  to  use  it  to-night  ? 
There  are  no  burglars  here  to  shoot  at,  that  I  can  see." 

"I  hope  there  will  be  no  occasion  to  use  it!  I  pray  that  there  will  not  be! 
But  I  am  going  out,  and  before  the  clock  in  the  Court  House  strikes  twelve, 
one  of  two  things  will  happen— George  Trussell  will  either  be  herewith  me,  or 
he  will  be—  in  hell!" 

The  last  word  was  pronounced  with  such  stern  emphasis  that  Ida  Preston 
trembled  and  turned  pale,  for  she  could  understand  from  their  earnestness 
that  they  conveyed  a  deadly  meaning.  She  tried  to  pacify  Mollie,  and  to  deter 
her  from  the  trip  she  had  marked  out,  but  no  words  that  mortal  lips  could  ut- 
ter could  have  had  that  effect.  The  wronged  Irish  girl  was  fearfully  aroused 
— she  was  insane  with  jealousy — she  was  ready  to  fall  down  and  worship  the 
idol  of  her  heart,  and  forgive  all,  if  he  would  only  come  to  her,  but  she  was 
also  prepared  to  redden  her  hands  and  blacken  her  soul  with  his  heart's  blood 
rather  than  permit  him  to  desert  her  for  another! 

"You  waste  your  words  upon  me,  Ida,"  she  said.  "Once  to-day  you  have 
saved  his  life!  I  would  have  killed  them  both  this  afternoon  had  it  not  been 
for  you!  My  mind  is  fully  made  up,  now,  and  no  power  on  earth  can  change 
it.  If  he  will  come  to  me,  I  will  forget  and  forgive  all;  if  he  will  not,  let  the 
consequences  fall  on  his  own  guilty  head!" 

Ida  turned  away  with  a  sigh,  and  tears  gathered  in  her  eyes,  for  she  loved 
Mollie  as  well  as  one  erring  sister  can  love  another. 

"Ida."  said  Mollie  a  minute  afterwards,  "I  want  you  to  write  a  note  for 
me  to  George.  I  want  you  to  tell  him  that  he  has  broken  his  oath,  and  that  I 
will  not  keep  mine,  but  that  I  must  see  him  before  I  break  it." 

Procuring  paper  and  Ink,  Ida  sat  down  at  the  table  in  the  room  and  wrote 
as  follows: 

DEAR  GEORGE — You  have  not  kept  your  oath,  and  I  cannot  keep  mine.  I 
want  to  see  you  before  I  break  it,  and  must.  Come  to  me  to-night  without 
fail.  Your  loving  MCXLI.I  i;. 

"Does  that  suit  you  ?"  said  Ida. 

"It  is  just  what  I  wanted,"  replied  Mollie,  as  she  carefully  folded  the  mis- 
sive and  put  it  in  her  pocket. 

The  enraged  and  desperate  girl  had  attired  herself  with  great  care,  and 
never  in  her  life  had  looked  more  queenly  in  her  rare  beauty. 

It  was  then  10  o'clook  at  night,  and  a  hack  was  driven  to  the  door  by 
Shang  Noyes,  who  had  been  summoned  by  Mollie. 

"Shang,"  said  Mollie,  "You  know  George  Trussell  well.  You  would  know 
him  a  block  away,  on  the  darkest  night.  I  want  to  see  him.  I  must  and  will 
see  him  to-night,  wherever  he  may  be  found.  \I  want  you  to  take  this  note, 
and  drive  around  town  until  you  find  him.  I  think  you  will  lind  him  on  Ran- 
dolph street." 

Shang  had  no  idea  that  any  serious  mischief  was  intended,  and,  placing  the 
note  in  his  pocket,  led  the  way,  followed  by  the  woman  who  was  destined  to 
commit  an  awful  crime  on  that  eventful  night. 

"To  Randolph  street!"  exclaimed  Mollie,  with  just  a  ripple  of  excitement 
in  her  usually  musical  voice. 

"To  Randolph  street  it  is,"  returned  Shang,  as  the  whip  cracked  and  the 
horses  bounded  in  the  direction  which  they  were  guided  by  the  steady  hand  of 
the  driver. 

ftiere  vrere  any  number  of  resorts  for  sporting  men  on  that  thoroughfare, 
*t  the  time  of  which  we  write— saloons,  gambling  houses,  shooting  galleries, 
billiard  rooms  and  places  of  amusement;  out  none  of  them  were  so  popular  as 
the  famous  "Tremont  Livery  Stable,"  kept  by  William  Price,  (who  has  sine*) 
that  time  left  tbte  world  for,  we  trurt,  *  better  one— Chrt  bleu  hie  memory!) 


54 

In  this  place,  at  11  o'clock  on  the  night  of  which  we  write,  were  gathered 
about  fifteen  sporting  moii.  They  were  congregated  in  the  saloon  of  Seneca 
Wright,  which,  though  partioned  with  boards  from  the  stable,  was  really  a 
part  of  it,  with  a  door  leading  to  the  carriage-way  and  anothei  to  the  street. 
Overhead  there  was  another  saloon,  with  a  gambling  house  attached,  kept  by 
Mike  McDonald,  in  which  it  was  supposed  that  Trussell  had  an  interest.  There 
was  to  be  a  race  at  the  Driving  Park  next  day;  and  nearly  all  present  were 
"horse  men,"  who  had  assembled  to  talk  over  the  wonderful  exploits  of  the 
great  Dexter,  who  was  already  at  the  race  track,  and  to  make  such  speculations 
as  to  the  race  as  their  judgment  might  suggest. 

George  Trussell  stood  leaning  against  the  counter  of  the  bar,  as  Shang  en- 
tered, conversing  with  Geo.  B.  Ackerly  on  the  topics  of  the  hour. 

"Here  is  a  note  for  you,  George,"  said  Shang,  as  he  handed  him  the  written 
message. 

The  gambler  seemed  to  know  who  it  was  from,  for  his  brow  contracted, 
and  he  put  it  in  his  pocket  without  reading  it,  and  did  not  speak  a  word. 

In  about  a  minute,  however,  he  took  out  the  note,  read  it  by  the  glaring 
gas  light,  and  again  pocketed  it,  still  saying  nothing  to  Shang,  who  waited 
three  or  four  minutes,  and  then  went  out  to  Mollie,  who  still  remained  in  the 
hack. 

"Did  you  give  George  the  note •?"  she  inquired,  eagerly. 

"I  gave  it  to  him,  and  he  read  it,  but  said  nothing,"  was  the  reply. 

"Go  in  again,  Shang.  Tell  him  I  am  here,  waiting  for  him.  Tell  him  ta 
come  out  and  speak  just  one  word  to  his  Mollie!" 

"I  don't  like  this  business,"  muttered  the  hackman,  as  he  once  more  was 
about  to  start  for  the  barn,  "but  I'm  in  for  it  now,  row  or  no  row." 

Budd  Doble,  the  driver  of  Dexter,  then  came  \ip,  and  inquired  what  the 
trouble  was. 

"Will  you  please  go  in  and  tell  George  Trussell  that  his  Mollie  is  here,  in  a 
hack,  and  wants  to  see  him  ?" 

"Certainly  I  will,"  replied  Budd,  and  he  accompanied  Noyes  to  the  stable, 
and  from  thence  to  the  saloon. 

The  errand  was  performed,  and  Trussell  turned  upon  Dobl-e  with  a  frown, 
and  said  angrily,  "Budd,  this  is  something  that  don't  concern  you.  I  wish  you 
would  attend  to  your  own  business!" 

The  great  driver  turned  upon  his  heel  at  these  words  from  his  employer, 
and  left  the  saloon. 

Previous  to  this  time,  those  not  directly  interested  were  not  aware  that 
anything  unusual  had  been  taking  place.  But  they  were  not  long  to  remain  in 
ignorance. 

When  Mollie  found  that  her  last  message  had  been  treated  with  scorn,  she 
opened  the  hack  door  with  her  own  hand,  and  with  an  elastic  spring,  that  be- 
token mischief,  jumped  to  the  walk. 

She  did  not  rush  wildly  to  the  saloon,  as  would  naturally  be  looked  for  from 
one  laboring  under  great  excitement.  She  was  excited,  it  is  true;  but  she  had 
studied  well  the  part  she  was  to  enact,  and  walked  with  the  linn  and  steady 
step  of  one  who,  having  resolved  upon  a  desperate  act,  proposed  to  accomplish 
it  with  a  slowness  and  decision  that  would  insure  a  complete  success. 

Stepping  quietly  up  to  Trussell,  who  stood  leaning  against  the  ice  box,  and 
who  had  not  deigned  to  look  at  her,  although  he  knew  well  she  was  coming, 
Mollie  said,  with  a  slightly  tremulous  voice,  putting  her  hand  upon  hisshoulder: 

"George,  come  out — /  want  to  speak  to  you  /" 

George  Trussell  was  a  man  who,  on  ordinary  occasions,  was  as  genial, 
as  sociable,  and  as  agreeable  as  any  man  could  be;  but  when  passion  took  pos- 
session of  him,  no  human  being  could  look  or  act  or  talk  more  like  a  fiend. 

When  Mpflie  spoke  to  him  in  the  saloon,  and  he  felt  the  pressure  of  her 
hand  upon  his  arm,  the  color  forsook  his  face  in  an  instant,  and,  white  as  mar- 
ble, and  with  a  wicked  gleam  of  hate  and  anger  in  his  eyes,  he  turned  upon 
her,  and  raised  his  arm  to  strike. 

"Don't,  Georf/c,  don't  fttrikff" 

There  was  more  meaning  in  these  words,  than  would  casually  strike  the 
reader.  It  was  an  appeal  and  a  threat  combined  in  a  single  sentence. 


55 

It  was  as  much  as  to  say,  "George,  for  God's  sake  don't  strike  me;  but  if 
you  do,  God  help  you!" 

Disregarding  her  appeal,  George  Trussell  shoved  the  woman,  struck  her, 
and,  with  the  assistance  of  Seneca  Wright,  forced  the  struggling  girl  from  the 
saloon  to  the  street  door,  and  from  there  to  the  walk.  Such  violence  was  used 
that  a  great  portion  of  Mollie's  clothing  was  torn  from  her  person,  and  her 
diamonds  fell  through  the  grating  in  front  of  the  door. 

Go  hmne,  6f — d  d—n  you,  go  home !"  he  exclaimed,  as,  after  having  succeed- 
ed in  ejecting  her,  he  aimed  a  blow  at  her  head. 

"I  will  send  you  home  to  hell!"  she  whispered  hoarsely,  so  that  none  but 
Trussell  heard  the  words. 

"Take  that,  traitor  !" 

A  sharp  report  rang  upon  the  midnight  air. 

"Bang!  bang!  bang!"  Three  more  shots  followed  the  first,  and  Trussell 
threw  up  his  hands  wildly  and  cried  out : 

"/  am  shot,  boys,  I  am  shot!" 

They  were  the  last  words  of  the  gambler.  The  first  bullet  had  passed 
through  his  heart,  another  had  entered  the  abdomen,  and  another  was  received 
in  the  back,  lodging  in  the  spine.  Either  might  have  proved  fatal,  but  the 
first  was  certain  and  instant  death,  and  within  five  minutes  George  Trussell 
was  no  more. 

When  Mollie  saw  the  man  Avho  had  brought  her  to  shame  and  ignominy 
lying  senseless  upon  the  barn  floor,  all  her  old  love  returned,  and,  falling  upon 
the  prostrate  body,  she  kissed  the  dumb  lips,  caressed  him  with  delirious  frenzy, 
and  called  him  by  every  endearing  name  that  the  tongue  of  woman  could  ut- 
ter or  the  mind  conceive. 

"George!  Darling!  Speak  to  your  Mollie!  Do  not  die,  oh,  do  not  die!  Come 
back  to  me,  oh,  come  back  to  your  own  darling  Mollie !" 

Hot  tears  rained  into  the  face  of  the  dead  man,  but  he  knew  it  not,  for  his 
spirit  had  already  taken  its  flight  to  the  land  of  the  hereafter. 

Officer  Asa  Williams  soon  arrived  and  conveyed  the  murderess  to  the  Cen- 
tral Station,  and  there  she  passed  a  night  of  misery  such  as  is  seldom  exper- 
ienced in  this  world  of  trouble— and  there,  for  the  present,  we  will  leave  her. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

No  man  was  ever  more  fascinated  with  woman's  charms  than  was  Jim  Par- 
ker with  those  of  Irish  Mollie.  It  was  not  alone  her  great  beauty  that  kin- 
dled in  his  bosom  a  flame  of  love.  He  knew  that  her  fall  from  virtue  was 
not  voluntary.  He  knew  all  the  circumstances  that  led  to  her  enlistment  in 
the  ranks  of  the  courtesans.  He  knew  that  she  would  have  bedn  an  honest 
woman  had  not  her  girlish  affections  been  lavished  upon  a  sporting  man— a 
man  whose  ideas  of  virtue  were  vague  and  chimerical.  He  knew  that  she  had 
been  misled  through  the  subtle  promptings  of  a  holy  passion,  and  had  been 
blsndly  led  into  evil  paths  through  an  influence  that  she  had  not  the  power  to 
resist.  And  knowing  the  purity  of  her  heart,  knowing  the  temptations  that 
beset  her,  knowing  all  the  baneful  circumstances  that  enveloped  her  in  the 
hour  that  she  consented  to  relinquish  her  hold  on  purity,  this  man  followed 
her  through  all  the  dark  labyrinths  of  her  wayward  life,  in  the  firm  faith  that 
sooner  or  later  his  faithful  and  overpowering  love  would  be  rewarded.  Ho 
could  read  the  gambler's  heart  as  one  can  read  a  poster  on  the  wall.  To  him 
it  was  but  a  breathing  transparency.  That  George  Trussell  loved  Mollie,  in 
his  reckless  way,  he  was  aware;  but  he  would  have  wagered  his  life  that  the 
sportsman  never  intended  to  marry  his  mistress.  He  knew  Trussell  better  than 
Mottie  did.  He  had  watched  him  closely.  He  had  witnessed  scenes  that  were 
positive  proof  of  the  infidelity  of  the  great  gambler  to  his  favorite  "woman." 
He  followed  his  rival  from  one  part  of  the  city  to  the  other,  and  was  familiar 
vrith  att  his  intimacies  with  the  women  of  the  town.  He  even  acquired  an  in- 
timate friendship  with  a  woman  in  the  house  of  Lou  Harper,  in  order  that  he 


56 

might  have  an  opportunity  to  know  something  of  the  secret  transactions  that 
might  occur  under  that  roof.  Everything  that  took  place  was  faithfully  re- 
ported; and  hence  it  was  that  he  followed  the  gambler  to  Buffalo  and  there 
learned  of  the  infidelity  that  made  glad  his  heart! 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  trial  of  Mollie  Trussell,  for  the  murder  of  her  paramour,  took  place 
on  the  14th  and  loth  days  of  December  following  the  tragedy,  and  created  great 
excitement  throughout  the  city  and  for  hundreds  of  miles  around,  for  "Irish 
Mollie,"  the  courtesan,  and  George  Trussell,  the  gambler,  were  well  known 
among  the  sporting  fraternity  of  the  whole  country.  After  the  first  spasm  of 
remorse",  repentance,  or  excitement,  whatever  they  may  be  called,  were  over, 
Mollie  devoted  her  entire  attention  to  the  single  object  of  escaping  from  pun- 
ishment. True,  many  believed  she  was  entirely  justified  in  taking  the  life  of 
the  man  who  had  ruined,  betrayed  and  assaulted  her;  but  a  deep-seated  preju- 
dice existed  against  her  in  many  quarters,  for  the  sole  reason  that  she  was  an 
outcast.  In  order,  if  possible,  to  remove  this,  Mollie  pretended  to  experience 
religion,  and  large  numbers  of  the  best  and  most  pious  ladies  in  Chicago  daily 
visited  her  in  the  jail,  prayed  with  her  and  for  her,  and  exerted  themselves  in 
every  possible  direction  in  her  behalf,  because  they  believed  she  had  been 
shamefully  wronged,  and  was  sincere  in  her  professions  of  reform.  The  trial 
took  place  in  the  Superior  Court  before  Chief  Justice  John  M.  Wilson,  and  the 
jury  brought  in  a  verdict  of  manslaughter,  fixing  the*  punishment  at  imprison- 
ment for  one  year  in  the  penitentiary.  As  a  matter  of  some  interest  we  give 
a  few  extracts  from  the  opening  address  of  the  Hon.  E.G.  Asay,  Mollie's coun- 
sel, and  then,  as  now,  a  leading  lawyer  of  the  Northwest.  Mr.  Asay  said: 

"May  it  please  the  Court  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury :  I  am  assured  that 
you  will  have  little  difficulty  in  getting  at  the  proof  and  reaching  the  righteous 
result — a  verdict  for  the  prisoner.  This  woman  (pointing  to  Mollie)  when  an 
untutored  girl,  scarcely  fifteen  years  old,  having  left  her  mother's  home  on  the 
green  isle  across  the  sea,  was  found  by  George  Trussell.  She  was  then  a  waiter 
girl  at  a  hotel— a  girl  whose  innocent,  child-like  beauty  was  acknowledged  by 
all  who  saw  her.  George  Trussell  marked  her,  but  not  for  good.  He  saw  her 
as  she  waited  upon  the  table,  and  her  beauty  fascinated  him.  He  sought  the 
acquaintance  of  this  innocent,  ignorant  Irish  girl,  and  wron  her  love. 

"Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  I  knew  George  Trussell  well;  and  as  I  shall  one 
day  stand  with  him  in  judgment  before  the  God  that  made  us  both,  I  will  say 
that  there  were  many  things  about  him  that  I  liked.  His  smile  was  fascina- 
ting, his  powers  wonderful.  They  were  fatal  to  this  unfortunate  prisoner.  He 
had  inveigled  men  and  ruined  women,  but  she  knew  it  not.  When  she  came 
to  Chicago,  and  fell  under  the  eye  of  Trussell,  she  was  an  innocent  Irish  peas- 
ant girl;  to  day  she  is—  What? 

"In  less  than  a  hundred  miles  from  here  there  lives  the  result  of  the  un- 
holly  alliance  between  George  Trussell  and  the  prisoner— a  living  George  Trus- 
sell— a  boy  ten  years  of  age,  the  legal  and  acknowledged  heir  of  his  dead 
father.  From  the  time  that  this  boy  was  born,  Mollie  Trussell  has  been  an 
outcast.  "True,  he  did  not  kill  her;  but  he  did  worse— he  destroyed  her  virtue 
and  forever  blasted  her  reputation  I  and  this  woman's  seducer,  with  thorns  up- 
on his  brow  sharper  than  unknown  and  untold  agonies  is — I  will  not  say 
where!  It  is  enough  that  he  made  Mollie  Trussell  what  she  is! 

"In  life,  Trussell  would  not  give  her  up.  She  could  not  give  him  up.  He 
was  all  she  had  to  cling  to.  A  woman  thus  abandoned,  thus  thrown  out  of 
society,  thus  banished  from  everything  that  is  good  and  pure,  clings  as  ivy 
never  clung  to  oak  to  the  man  who  brought  her  to  ruin.  Mollie  TrusselFs 
only  sunshine  was  the  smile  of  the  man  who  destroyed  her. 

"The  earnings  sf  this  woman's  infamy,  the  price  of  her  shame,  have  been 
shared  by  George  Trussell.  Not  satisfied  "with  the  destruction  of  her  body  and 
soul,  hp  has,  filled  his  pockets  with  the  shame-bought  money  of  the  victim  of 


his  lust.  "When  I  think  of  tliis,  my  very  soul  revolts  with  loathing,  «nd  the 
thought  comes  irresistible,  can  so  foul  a  creature  be  a  manf 

"There  is  nothing  but  unhappiness  in  this  world  for  this  woman  and  her 
child.  She  will  go  through  the  world  marked.  She  will  be  shunned  as  an 
abandoned  outcast.  And  this  bright,  innocent  boy  of  hers,  when  he  goes 
among  his  schoolmates  and  his  comrades,  will  be  pointed  at  by  them,  and  the 
taunting  cry  will  be,  'There  goes  the  bastard  son  of  George  Trussell,  the  gam- 
bler r 

Mr.  Asay  conducted  the  entire  case  with  great  ability,  and  the  verdict  was 
generally  approved. 

But  Irish  Mollie  was  not  satisfied;  and  when  she  was  conducted  to  her  cell, 
after  the  verdict  had  been  announced,  she  said  to  a  fellow  prisoner: 

"By  G — ,  the  pious  dodge  must  get  me  out  out  of  this  yet;  I  can't  go  down 
a  year,  and  I  won't. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Were  this  a  tale  of  fiction,  and  not  a  true  story,  the  author  would  proba- 
bly have  made  the  plot  more  pleasant  and  less  tragic;  but  the  life  of  Irish  Mol- 
lie and  the  fate  of  George  Trussell  are  so  well  known,  that  to  deviate  from  the 
truth  would  be  an  insult  to  the  intelligence  of  those  who  read  these  pages. 

During  the  three  months  that  intervened  between  the  killing  of  the  gam- 
bler and  the  murder  trial,  Mollie  was  provided  with  comfortable  quarters  in  the 
county  jail.  Though  charged  with  murder,  she  was  treated  like  a  princess,  and 
provided  with  every  luxury  that  heart  could  wish.  Other  prisoners  could  receive 
visitors  oniy  on  certain  days  and  at  certain  haurs;  but  the  acknowledged  beau- 
ty of  Chicago  was  free  to  entertain  callers  at  any  time  that  she  might  desire. 
The  motion  of  her  finger  brought  an  attendant;  a  whisper  from  her  lips  was 
law.  She  had  everything  but  liberty — and  that  was  not  altogether  denied  her, 
for  on  many  occasions,  had  a  dark  veil  been  lifted  in  a  carriage  that  sped  around 
the  town,  the  face  of  Irish  Mollie  would  have  been  revealed!  True,  she  was 
accompanied  by  a  bailiff,'  but  what  mattered  that?  she  was  at  liberty  to  call 
on  her  friends,  to  drink,  to  carouse,  and  to  do  anything  she  wished.  Many  a 
morning,  when  sympathetic  Christian  ladies  called  on  her,  and  found  her  red- 
eyed  and  bloated  in  the  face,  they  supposed  that  she  had  been  weeping  with 
repentant  grief,  when  in  fact  she  had  been  out  on  a  roaring  drunk  and  wild 
debauch. 

Probably  no  prisoner  that  ever  looked  from  benind  the  bars  in  the  Cook 
county  jail  received  more  earnest  and  heartfelt  sympathy  than  did  Mollie 
Trussell.  The  good  ladies  of  the  city  organized  an  association  and  combined 
to  labor  without  ceasing  in  her  behalf.  They  prayed  with  her  and  for  her 
every  day,  and  she  actually  experienced  religion,  as  they  imagined,  though  in 
reality  she  was  only  acting  a  part!  Though  an  unlettered  woman,  she  was 
quick  to  comprehend  and  swiff,  to  commit  to  memory.  She  soon  learned  to 
pray  and  some  of  her  appeals  to  the  Throne  were  as  eloquent  as  any  that  ever 
fell  from  the  lips  of  a  distressed  mortal,  even  though  they  had  been  written 
for  her  by  a  friend,  dear  arid  steadfast,  and  committed  to  memory  as  he  read 
from  the  manuscript!  So  perfect  was  her  acting  on  these  occasions  that  great 
tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks,  accompanied  by  sighs  and  sobs  so  heartrending 
that  those  who  had  doubted  at  first  were  firmly  convinced  that  the  Magdalen's 
heart  had  undergone  a  complete  change,  and  that  she  was  indeed  a  Christian 
woman!  The  writer  of  these  lines,  to  whom  she  made  no  concealment  of  her 
hypocrisy,  heard  many  of  her  prayers,  and  could  only  be  convinced  of  her  ut- 
ter depravity  by  the  sly  wink  given  for  his  benefit  as  soon  as  she  was  off  her 
knees!  / 

A  day  never  passed  that  Jim  Parker  did  not  visit  her,  and  many  times  he 
remained  with  her  from  early  in  the  morning  until  late  at  night.  He  believed 
that  she  was  justified  in  what  she  had  done,  and  he  knew  that  in  a  great  meas- 
ure he  was  responsible  for  the  terrible  tragedy.  Knowing;  that  an  oath  of 
fealty  had.  been  exchanged  between  the  gambler  and  bis  mistress,  and  belie v- 


58 

ing  that  Trussell  would  violate  it,  Jim  Parker  followed  his  rival  to  Buffalo, 
dugged  his  steps  with  the  pertinacity  of  a  blood-hound,  discovered  the  spert- 
ingman's  infidelity,  and  forwarded  the  messages  that  have  already  been  record-" 
ed.  But  he  did  not  anticipate  a  tragedy.  He  wanted  to  wean  Mollie's  affec- 
tions from  George.  He  wanted  her  to  see  with  her  own  eyes  how  false  was 
the  man  who  professed  to  love  her.  He  took  no  unfair  advantage,  told  no  lies, 
concocted  no  seemes,  but  merely  reported  what  he  saw.  To  say  that  he  was 
sorry  when  he  saw  the  gambler  in  his  coffin  would  not  be  true — for  was  not 
the  road  to  Mollie's  heart  so  much  the  shorter  ?  But  the  first  interview  he  had 
with  her  in  jail  was  not  calculated  to  give  him  hope.  Unwisely,  perkaps,  but 
naturally,  he  sppko  of  his  own  love;  but  hardly  were  the  words  out  of  his 
mouth  when  Irish  Mollie  checked  him  with  a  look  that  almost  froze  the  blood 
in  his  veins. 

"Love!"  she  exclaimed,  bitterly,  "Jim  Parker,  if  you  value  my  friendship 
never  speak  to  me  of  love  again!  The  only  man  I  ever  did  or  ever  will  or 
ever  could  love  is  now  in  his  coffin!  In  a  mad  hour,  when  jealousy  and  fremzy 
were  my  masters,  I  killed  him;  but  if  by  plunging  a  dagger  into  my  own  keart 
this  minute  I  could  bring  my  George  back  to  life  again,  I  would  do" it  and  die 
happy  I  I  like  you,  Jim;  I  know  that  you  are  my  friend:  I  appreciate  your  kind- 
ness; I  want  you  for  a  brother;  but  as  for  Zowe,  I  hate  the  word!" 

"Then  I  am  your  brother!"  returned  Parker,  with  more  enthusiasm  than 
he  felt;  for  he  would  not,  could  not  abandon  the  wild  desire,  kindled  years  be- 
fore, to  some  day  hug  the  beautiful  Irish  girl  to  his  heart  and  call  her  all  his 
own. 

"Am  I  indeed  your  brother,  Mollie?"  he  asked,  after  an  interval  of  perhaps 
a  dozen  seconds  had  elapsed. 

"My  own  dear  brother!"  was  the  ardent,  affectionate  reply. 

"Then  I  claim  a  brother's  right!"  he  exclaimed,  triumphantly;  and  before 
Irish  Mollie  understood  the  meaning  of  the  words,  she  found  herself  folded 
tightly  in  his  arms,  his  lips  glued  to  hers!" 

"Stop,  Jim  Parker,  stop!"  she  almost  screamed,  as  soon  as  site  could  release 
herself  from  the  unexpected  embrace. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?"  he  said,  with  a  smile;  "haven't  I  a  right  to  kiss 
my  sister  ?" 

Mollie  could  not  well  even  seem  to  be  offended,  and  she  smiled  as  she  re- 
plied: 

"Oh,  yes,  once  in  a  great  while;  but  as  I  have  found  the  world,  brothers 
and  sisters  are  not  so  fond  of  kissing  and  hugging  as  you  seem  to  be,  But  se- 
riously, Jim,  you  must  not  and  shall  not  repeat  the  offense  you  have  just  com- 
mitted. If  you  wish  to  visit  me,  and  refrain  from  such  indulgences,  you  are 
more  than  welcome,  for  1  tell  you  candidly  that  you  are  the  only  man  this  side 
of  the  ocean  that  I  like — and  I  do  like  you.  I  would  like  to  see  you  every  day 
— I  might  say  every  hour  in  the  day.  I  look  on  you  as  my  best  friend.  Will 
you  be  good  and  conduct  yourself  as  I  have  requested,  or  must  I  tell  the  turn- 
key to  refuse  you  admittance  ?" 

"Oh,  do  not  do  that!— dp  not,  I  beg  you,  do  that!  I  will  be  very  good!  I 
will  admire  you,  I  will  befriend  you,  I  will  stick  to  you  closer  than  a  brother,  I 
will  love  you— but  I  will  never,  no  never  tell  you  of  it!" 

"Then  the  compact  is  sealed!"  said  Mollie. 

"Sealed  with  wnat  ?"  and  he  advanced  with  a  questioning  smile  on  his 
honest  face. 

"With  this!"  she  replied,  clasping  his  right  hand  in  hers;  "you  and  I,  from 
this  out,  are  dear  friends  I" 

He  in  mute  reply  pressed  her  hand  with  a  warm,  hearty  grip — and  every- 
thing was  understood  between  Irish  Mollie,  the  murderess,  and  Jim  Parker, 
who  loved  her. 

Three  months  in  jail,  with  liberties  such  as  she  enjoyed,  passed  quickly; 
the  trial  came;  the  verdict  was  announced;  and  Irish  Mollie  walked  from  the 
court  room  to  her  parlor-cell  with  the  determination  that  sweet  liberty 
should  soon  again  be  hers  if  a  false  face,  false  tears,  and  false  words  could  ao 
complish  the  resultl  We  shall  see  how  well  she  played  her  part] 


59 
CHAPTER  XIX. 


The  ladies  who  had  taken  upon  themselves  the  task  of  freeing  Irish  Mol- 
lie  from  the  fetters  that  the  law  had  bound  her  with,  renewed  their  efforts  with 
fresh  vigor  after  she  had  been  convicted  and  sentenced  to  a  rear's  imprison- 
ment in  the  peniteatiary.  The  "penitent"  prisoner,  the  deformed"  outcast, 
had  completely  won  their  hearts,  and  powerful  influences  were  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  Governor  to  secure  a  pardon  before  she  left  the  jail  to  serve  out  her 
term  at  Joliet.  In  this,  however,  they  were  unsuccessful.  The  Chief  Magis- 
trate held  out  with  a  firmness  that  they  had  not  expected,  and  on  one  cold, 
biting  winter's  morning,  Irish  Mollie,  "the  beautiful  courtesan,"  as  she  was 
called,  was  conveyed  to  the  Jiock  Island  depot  ia  a  close  carriage,  and  put 
aboard  the  train  that  was  to  carry  her  to  a  dungeon  cell  in  the  State,  Prison. 
The  scene  at  the  depot  was  one  that  Will  be  ever  memorable  to  those  who  wit- 
nessed it.  She  did  not  go  as  other  prisoners  do,  solitary  and  in  shackles,  friend- 
less, despised,  and  discarded  as  worthy  of  her  doom.  No  princess  ever  em- 
barked on  excursion  of  pleasure  with  a  train  of  more  devoted  friends  to  wish 
her  God  speed,  than  surrounded  Mollie  Trussell  at  the  railroad  depot,  when, 
in  charge  of  the  Sheriff,  she  stepped  aboard  the  train  that  was  to  convey  her 
to  her  destination.  They  were  not  the  kind  of  sympathizers  that  usually  cling 
to  a  convicted  outlaw;  they  were  ladies  as  pure-minded  as  any  that  ever  lived, 
occupying  the  highest  rank  in  Chicago  society.  They  wept  as  bitterly  as  did 
the  prisoner  herself,  kissed  her  good-bye  with  sighs  that  were  almost  groans, 
and  waved  her  their  sad  adieus  after  the  train  had  started. 

During  this  leave-taking,  Jim  Parker  was  a  silent  but  very  far  from  disin- 
terested observer.  He  was  sorry  to  be  compelled  to  see  the  woman  he  loved 
taken  away  from  her  home  and  friends,  to  become  the  inmate  of  a  convict's 
cell;  but  he  felt  that,  with  such  a  powerful  array  of  advocates  as  clung  to  the 
fortunes  of  Mollie  Trussell,  her  term  of  imprisonment  would  be  of  short  du- 
ration. When  the  whistle  shrieked  and  "ail-aboard"  was  shouted,  Parker  did 
not,  like  the  rest,  remain  behind  to  look  wistfully  at  the  receding  train. 
Bounding  upon  the  platform  of  the  car  that  contained  the  fair  prisoner,  he 
was  quickly  at  her  side.  The  Sheriff  in  charge,  Rot  fearing  an  attempt  to  es- 
cape, considerately  seated  himself  some  distr~"e  away,  leaving  the  friends  to, 
converse  in  secret  as  long  as  possible. 

"How  long  do  you  think  you  will  remain  in  Joliet  ?"  inquired  Parker,  af- 
ter the  first  greeting  was  over. 

"I  am  not  positive  now  but  that  I  shall  have  to  stay  the  whole  year,"  she 
replied  with  a  serious,  troubled  look;  "I  would  have  sworn,  two  weeks  ago, 
that  I  would  never  make  this  trip.  I  was  sure  that  the  ladies  who  converted 
me  would  get  me  out  of  the  fix  in  some  way,  if  begging,  praying,  crying,  coax- 
ing would  do  it,  and  they  have  promised  me  that  they  will  keep  on  without 
ceasing,  until  snccessful;  but  I  am  discouraged,  and  have  almost  reconciled 
myself  to  the  fate  that  perhaps  must  be  mine.  A  year,  anyway,  isn't  much. 
Had  it  been  ten,  instead  of  one,  with  no  hope  of  pardon,  they  would  never 
have  taken  me.'over  the  road,'  for  Irish  Mollie  would  have  put  a  bullet  through 
her  own  heart,  rather  than  spend  the  best  years  of  her  life  behind  the  grates  of 
a  prison/' 

"Had  you  done  that,"  interrupted  her  companion,  "there  would  have  been 
two  funerals  on  the  same  day." 

•  Irish  Mollie's  face  flushed  when  she  heard  this.  It  did  not  please  her,  she 
tried  to  make  herself  believe,  but  she :  involuntary  leaned  closer  to  her  friend, 
for  she  knew  as  well  as  he  did  that  his  love  was  the  kind  that  lasts  through 
thick  and  thin,  that  no  sun  could  fade  and  no  storm  turn  cold.  She  made  no 
reply  to  what  he  said,  and  after  a  short  pause  continued : 

"If  I  am  compelled  to  serve  out  my  sentence,  Jim,  will  you  be  there  a  year 
from  to-day  to  see  me  home?" 

"A  year  from  to-day!  Dojyou  think  I  shall  stay  away  from  you  that  time  ? 
Don't  yon  know  that  visitors  are  admitted  at  regular  intervals  }  You  may  be 
sure  that  I  will  see  you  as  often  as  I  can,  that  I  will  write  you  as  often  as  the 
rules  permit,  and  that  I  shall  not  leave  Joliet  until  you  do,  whether  it  be  a  day, 
a  week,  a  montfh  or  a  year!" 


60 

"You  are  indeed  my  friend,  Jim,"  she  replied  in  a  voice  that  betrayed 
emotion,  "and  it  is  only  right  that  I  should  thank  you  with  all  my  heart  before 
we  separate  by  the  cruel  edict  of  the  law!'' 

"I  shall  be  your  friend  as  long  as  I  live!" 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth  when  the  train  halted,  and  the 
conductor  shouted,  "Joliet." 

"This  way,  Miss  Mollie!"  commanded  the  sheriff. 

Fifteen  minutes  elapsed,  and  Irish  Mollie  was  duly  installed  as  an   inmate 
of  the  penitentiary ! 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


The  beautiful  prisoner  found  confinement  in  the  penitentiary  and  in  the 
County  jail  two  very  different  forms  of  punishment.  In  the  one  place  she  had 
been  visited  daily  and  hourly  by  friends,  and  had  been  treated  with  a  consider- 
ation that  only  distinguished  prisoners  are  accorded;  in  the  other,  strict  dis- 
cipline prevailed,  and  Irish  Mollie  was  no  exception — the  handsome  face,  the 
faultless  form,  the  eyes  that  could  flash  with  the  fire  of  hate  or  melt  with  the 
sunlight  of  love,  were  powerless  to  secure  her  favors  after  the  gates  of  the 
State  prison  had  closed  upon  her!  She  was  a  prisoner  absolutely  and  uncon- 
ditionally for  the  first  time  since  she  sent  a  bullet  to  the  heart  of  her  lover. 
The  rules  of  the  prison  were  adhered  to,  and  that  night  found  her  in  a  cell  ex- 
actly similar  to  those  occupied  by  other  female  convicts.  In  that  damp  place, 
alone,  in  the  darkness,  with  no  luxuriesanciL  no  one  to  talk  with,  it  may  be  im- 
agined that  her  thoughts  and  feelings  were  far  from  being  pleasant. 

"Oh,  God!"  she  exclaimed,  as  a  feeling  of  despair  crept  into  her  heart,  "If 
I  only  had  that  revolver  now,  how  quickly  would  I  end  all  this  misery!  A 
year  in  such  a  place  as  this'  A  whole  long  year!  Can  I  endure  it  ?  Can  I  live 
through  it?  Can  I,  who  have  for  years  enjoyed  every  comfort  of  life,  look 
only  on  prison  scenes  and  prison  walls  day  after  day,  night  after  night,  for 
twelve  dreary  months  and  not  go  mad?  Where  are  my  gay  companions? 
where  the  brilliant  parlors  ?  where  the  wine  ?  where  the  merriment  ?  and  where 
— oh!  merciful  God!  that  I  should  think  of  it  now!  where  is  my  George f  Oh, 
if  I  could  but  see  him  again,  I  would  wait  here  a  hundred  years,  and  never  in 
all  that  time  ask  to  see  the  light  of  day!  But  I  shall  never,  never  see  him  any 
more!  Did  I  do  wrong  in  killing  him?  Did  he  not  seduce  me?  Did  he  not 
desert  me  for  another?  Did  he  not  scorn  to  look  at  me?  Did  he  not  strike 
me  down  like  the  false,  cruel  coward  that  he  was?" 

Could  the  dark  cell  have  been  illuminated  at  that  time,  there  would  have 
been  revealed  the  features  of  a  demon  crouching  on  the  hard  bed. 

In  another  instant  tears  started  from  her  eyes,  and  she  moaned: 

"Oh,  I  loved  my  George!    I  loved  my  George!" 

Yet,  had  the  gambler  been  alive,  and  remained  false  to  his  oath,  she  would 
have  hunted  him  to  death,  much  as  she  loved  him! 

Sleep  finally  came  to  her  relief,  and  thus  passed  Irish  Mollie's  first  night 
in  prison. 

The  nextmoroing,  soon  after  she  awoke,  the  matron  handed  her  a  letter, 
and  was  al'kmt  to  depart  without  speaking,  when  she  was  attracted  by  the 
strange  conduct  of  the  prisoner.  She  held  the  letter  in  her  hand,  without  at- 
tempting to  open  it,  and  burst  into  tears! 

The  matron  knew  that, Mollie  had  not  read  a  line,  and  could  not  have  been 
affected  by  anything  that  the  letter  contained, .and  the  tearful  demonstration 
was,  therefore,  something  that  the  good  woman  could  not  account  for. 

"This  letter  is  apparently  from  a  friend,"  said  the  matron,  kindly,  "and  the 
contents  seem  to  me  to  be  very  cheering." 

"I  do  not  know  what  the  letter  contains,"  replied  Mollie,  "because — because 
—because  I  cannot  read.  It  is  shame  that  makes  me  cry,  Madame,  but  I  was 
only  a  poor  ignorant  Irish  girl  when  I  came  to  this  country,  und  then  trouble 
came,  and  I  have  never  learned  to  cither  read  or  write!" 


62 

The  matron  was  a  kind- hearted  woman. 

"You  have  certainly  been  unfortunate,"  she  said;  "as  I  have  already  read 
the  letter — the  rules  make  that  my  duty — I  will,  if  you  wish,  read  it  to  you." 

"Thank  you!    I  shall  be  very  grateful,"  was  the  earnest  reply. 

The  matron  then  read: 

NATIONAL  HOTEL,  JOLIET,  Dec.  19,  1866.— My  Dear  Friendf,:  Knowing 
how  dreadful  must  be  your  feelings,  how  dark  your  thoughts,  how  cheerless 
your  condition,  I  take  the  first  opportunity  to  convey  to  you  intelligence  that  I 
hope  aad  think  will  lighten  the  great  load  of  grief  that  now  lays  heavily  upon 
your  heart.  After  you  were  taken  from  me,  yesterday,  I  saw  and  talked  with 
several  parties  from  Chicago — people  of  standing  and  influence.  All  of  them 
are  positive  that  you  will  remain  where  you  now  are  but  a  very  few  days.  The 
Governor  cannot  resist  the  pressure  that  will  be  brought  to  bear  in  your  favor. 
There  are  powerful  influences  at  work,  and  there  are  those  who  declare  that 
they  will  never  bleep  until  you  are  free,  Cheer  up,  dear  girl,  be  brave  and 
hopeful,  for  the  clouds  are  passing  away,  and  soon  the  light  of  liberty  will 
shine  on  you  once  more.  I  will  see  you  soon  ;  and  though  all  others  should 
fail,  you  will  never  lack  a  friend  so  long  as  this  earth  contains 

JIM  PARKER. 

"A  friend  like  that  is  worth  having,"  remarked  the  matron,  as  she  handed 
Molliethe  letter. 

The  prisoner  pressed  the  envelope  to  her  lips — a  little  act  that,  could  it 
have  been  seen  by  the  sender,  would  have  made  his  heart  bound  with  joy. 

"Yes,"  replied  Mollie,  "he  is  a  true  friend,  and  1  know  that  he  will  do  all 
for  me  that  he  can." 

The  matron  then  withdrew,  and  soon  after  the  proper  official  appeared,  the 
door  was  opened,  and  the  new  prisoner  was  instructed  in  the  duties  that  would 
be  required  of  her. 

******** 

The  incidents  connected  with  the  prison  life  of  Mollie  Trussell,  were  not 
of  a  nature  that  requires  any  elaborate  mention  in  this  romance.  The  ladies 
who  had  interested  themselves  in  her  behalf,  were  true  to  their  promises,  even 
if  she  was  not  true  to  hers,  and  the  Governor  who  could  long  resist  their  en- 
treaties, backed  as  they  were  by  monster  petitions  that  these  same  good  ladies 
had  procured,  would  be  a  man  of  almost  more  than  human  firmness. 

The  Executive  held  off  for  a  time,  but  finally  yielded;  a  pardon,  attached 
to  which  was  the  great  seal  of  the  State,  was  signed,  and,  in  thirty  days  from 
the  hour  she  put  on  a  convict's  dress,  Mollie  Trussell  was  again  a  free  wo-man. 
She  had  made  up  her  mind  that  BO  relief  would  come,  and  had  become  parti- 
ally resigned  to  her  fate.  It  was  a  dull,  monotonous  life,  the  same  one  day  as 
another,  and  God  kno'Vs  dreary  in  its  least  unpleasant  features:  Jbut  the  first 
shuddering  herrar  had  worn  off,  she  had  been  accustomed  to  the  way  of  the 
prison,  and  was  looking  forward  with  patience  to  the  time  whea  her  sentence 
should  expire. 

One  morning,  while  she  was  performing  her  usual  duties,  her  keeper  tap- 
ped her  on  the  shoulder. 

"Mollie  Trussell,"  lie  said,  "you  are  wanted." 

"Where?"  was, tier  listless  inquiry,  supposing  that  work  was  required  of 
her  in  some  other  part  of  the  prison. 

"In  the  reception  room,"  was  the  response,  and  the  keeper  could  not  help 
but  smile,  for  he  knew  that  great  joy  was  in  store  for  her. 

Even  then  she  did  not  comprehend,  but  followed  the  officer  in  her  usual 
quiet  way. 

But  when  the  door  of  the  reception  room  was  opened,  and  she  saw  Jim 
Parker,  his  face  blazing  with  excitement,  hope  sprang  with  a  quick  leap  to 
her  heart! 

"Mellie,  you  are  free!"  he  cried,  grasping  both  her  hands. 

"Thank  God!"  she  exclaimed,  and  fainted  in  his  arms. 


63 
CHAPTER  XX. 


FREE! 

Irish  Mollie  had  never  fainted  before.  But  when  she  heard  the  glad  words, 
"Mollie,  you  are  free!"  joy  leaped  to  her  heart,  dizziness  followed,  and  in  the 
ecstacy  of  delight  that  followed  she  lost  consciousness. 

Recovering,  the  news  was  re-told.  The  prison  doors  were  open,  and  she 
was  at  liberty  to  go  whenever  she  felt  inclined.  The  clothing  that  she  had 
worn  thirty  days  before  was  restored  to  her,  and,  half  an  hour  from  the  time 
the  good  news  was  carried  by  her  faithful  friend  to  the  prison  door,  she  was  in 
a  carriage,  rolling  rapidly  towards  the  central  part  of  the  city  of  Joliet. 

"Shall  we  go  to  a  hotel  and  remain  over  night  ?"  asked  Parker,  when  they 
were  wheeling  along. 

"Remain  here?  Stay  in  this  hateful  city  a  minute  longer  than  necessary? 
No!  I  hate  the  place!  I  hate  any  place  where  the  wall  of  such  a  dreary  place 
as  that,  (indicating  the  prison)  can  be  seen  to  remind  me  of  the  hell  from 
which  1  have  just  escaped!" 

"Where  shall  we  go,  then,  Mollie  ?  Your  word  is  law,  your  wish  is  a  com- 
mand with  me." 

"Where  should  we  go  but  to  the  city  of  my  heart,  the  city  of  my  love,  the 
city  where  I  have  spent  so  many  happy  hours? — beautiful,  grand,  lovely  Chi- 
cago!" 

"Pardon  me,  my  sister,  but  I  thought  the  sight  of  Chicago  might  revive 
memories  that  would  not  be  pleasant  ones!' 

Parker  spoke  earnestly,  solemnly,  and  with  deep  feeling, 

"You  are  right,  Jim,"  replied  Mollie,  with  a  tinge  of  sadness  in  her  voice; 
"but  if  I  could  recall  the  events  that  preceded  my  departure,  I  doubt  if  it  would 
be  wise  for  me  to  do  it.  When  in  the  cell  that  has  held  me  for  the  past  thirty 
nights,  I  have  had  time  to  think,  and  think  deeply,  too.  I  have  recalled  to 
memory  every  day's  experience  since  that  first  night's  ride,  when  I  was  rescued 
by  two  brave  men  from  the  custody  of  villains.  I  have  followed,  hour  by 
hour,  the  incidents  of  the  life  I  have  led.  I  have  tried  to  be  _an  impartial 
judge  of  my  own  and  of  others'  acts.  I  have  wept  scalding  tears  as  memory 
has  taken  me  back  to  the  happy  hours  when  I  was  blessed  with  a  love  that  I 
believe  to  have  been  real  and  sincere.  I  never  lost  sight  of  you,  my  friend,  as 
I  conjured  up  the  good  and  the  dreadful  deeds  of  the  past.  The  thought  that 
I  had  one  friend  left  has  been  a  source  of  great  happiness  to  me,  notwithstand- 
ing the  blackness  in  which  my  past  and  future  has  been  enveloped.  As  I  have 
arrayed  before  me  all  the  evidence,  and  weighed  it  carefully,  I  have  become 
convinced  that  there  could  have  been  no  other  ending  to  the  intimacy  that 
made  George  Trussell  my  husband  in  everything  but  name.  It  was  life  or 
death— his  life  or  mine !  I  would  have  been  true  to  George— why  was  he  not 
true  to  me  ?  If  I  thought  that  I  was  in  the  sight  of  God  guilty  of  the  crime 
of  murder,  I  should,  as  judge  in  my  own  case,  have  convicted  myself,  sen- 
tenced myself,  and  become  my  own  executioner!  This  I  was  firmly  resolved 
to.  I  did  not  kill  myself,  because  I  did  not  believe  that  I  was  guilty.  My  own 
conscience,  in  the  light  of  all  the  evidence,  acquitted  me.  A  great  load  was 
lifted  from  my  heart.  Where  I  had  been  sad,  morose,  conscience-stricken, 
became  light-hearted,  cheerful,  happy,  and  the  days  and  nights  passed  lightly 
over  my  heard.  I  tell  you  now,  Jim  Parker,  that  I  have  no  regr^e  for  the  act 
to  which  you  so  sadly  alluded.  I  can  only  think  of  George  Trussell  as  I  saw 
him  at  the  depot  when  he  returned  from  the  East,  a  perjured,  false-hearted, 
fickle,  deceitful  man !  I  can  see  that  other  woman  on  his  arm!  I  can  see  him 
look  down  upon  her  with  the  light  of  a  great  love  in  the  eyes  that  once  fell  on 
me  with  the  same  tender  regard!  I  can  see  that  he  was  false  when  he  wooed 
me,  false  when  he  won  me,  false  when  he  wore  me  as  a  jewel  to  be  discarded 
at  his  own  caprice,  false  from  first  to  last !  I  loved  him,  I  adored  him,  I  wor- 
shiped him— and  what  did  I  get  in  return  ?  What  did  I  get  oa  that  last  dread- 
ful night?  Curses!  Blows'. 

Irish  Mollie  was  not  excited  when  she  said  this.  She  was  calm,  composed, 
earnest.  She  was  glad  she  killed  George  Trussell— glad  that  the  blood  of  the 
perjured  gambler  had  expiated  the  breaking  of  that  oath  of  fealty! 


64 

As  Jim  Parker  listened,  joy  and  hope  came  to  his  heavy  heart.  Had  the 
Irish  beauty  schooled  herself  to  hate  the  memory  of  the  man  she  once  loved? 
Had  she  torn  from  her  heart  the  idol  that  had  so  many  long  years  held  it  pris- 
oner? And  if  she  had,  was  there  not  room  in  the  vacant  place  for  a  love  that 
would  be  true,  manly,  holy  ?  Could  it  be  possible  that  there  was  happiness  in 
the  love  of  Irish  Mollie's  warm,  impulsive  heart  in  store  for  him  ?  There  was 
oliss  in  the  hope! 

But  he  dared  not  whisper  one  word  that  his  heart  prompted.  Mollie  Trus- 
sell  had  issued  a  mandate  forbidding  any  mention  of  love  on  penalty  of  her 
hatred,  and  he  would  obey  though  his  heart  might  break. 

A  forenoon  train  took  them  to  Chicago.  Mollie  enjoyed  the  trip  much  bet- 
ter than  on  that  dreary  day  that  saw  her  embark  for  Joliet.  She  was  lively, 
cheerful,  gay.  Her  laugh  was  clear  and  pleasant,  and  no  sigh  of  sorrow  fol- 
lowed it. 

As  they  approached  the  city  limits  Jim  Parker,  in  as  careless  a  manner  as 
he  eould,  asked  Mollie  what  were  her  intentions  regarding  the  future. 

The  woman  turned  upon  him  with  a  stare  that  made  him  recoil  and 'shud- 
der. She  was  not  offended,  but  in  her  eyes  there  lurked  a  look  that  sent  a  chill 
to  his  heart. 

Then  she  spoke. 

"Am  I  not  looking  well  ?"  she  asked,  harshly,  coldly. 

"As  well  as  ever  in  your  life !"  he  replied,  quickly,  and  with  flushed  face. 

"Am  I  really  handsome,  Jim  ?" 

"Lovely,  Mollie,  lovely!" 

"Has  care,  has  trouble,  has  dissipation,  have  these  years  of  excitement  left 
any  trace-marks  on  my  face?  Are  there  any  lines  of  sorrow  here?" 

Her  fair  fingers  swept  over  a  face  that  was  indeed  beautiful.  The  ripple 
of  excitement  that  coursed  through  her  blue  veins  had  heightened  the  charm 
that  was  always  on  her  brow,  and  her  brown  eyes  beamed  with  a  fire  that  was 
brightened  by  the  same  inciting  cause. 

Jim  Parker  told  the  truth  when,  with  rapt  admiration  in  his  voice  and 
look,  he  assured  Mollie  Trussell  that  she  was  a  very  queen  of  beauty. 

"Well,"  she  questioned,  "can  you  not  guess  the  nature  of  the  calling  to 
whiofr  the  corning  years  of  my  life  will  be  devoted  ?" 

"I  really  cannot,"  he  candidly  replied.  He  could  not  understand  the  mean- 
ing of  the  woman's  words. 

"And  must  I  tell  you  plainly  what  I  am  going  to  do  ?" 

"Yes,  please — plainly." 

"Then  you  shall  know  the  truth." 

"What  is  it?" 

He  leaned  forward  eagerly,  and  there  was  an  anxious,  wistful  look  on  his 
honest  face. 

"I  am  going  to  become  famous!" 

"Are  you  not  famous  already,  Mollie  ?" 

She  laughed,  but  there  was  no  glee  in  that  laugh. 

"Yes — infamous  !" 

Tears  moisted  her  eyelashes,  but  they  were  quickly,  nervously  brushed 
awray. 

"Are  you  answered  ?"  she  said,  avoiding  the  searching  look  that  glistened 
from  his  soulful  eyes. 

"Xo,  I  am  not!  You  have  not  told  me!  You  have  merely  excited  the  cu- 
riosity that  istjDurning  within  me!" 

"Then  let  that  curiosity  burn  no  longer!  I  am  beautiful!  That  beauty 
must  be  my  fortune!  From  this  time  on  I  will  be  known  the  whole  world 
over  as" — 

She  hesitated — a  lump  in  her  throat  seemed  to  choke  off  her  words. 

"As  what  ?"  gasped  the  man  who  loved  her. 

"As  IRISH  MOLLIE,  THE  COURTESAN  QUEEN!" 

These  words  were  spoken  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  but  they  fell  with  a  heavy 
weight  upon  the  ears  of  an  agonizing  listener. 

"Mollie!  oh,  Mollie,  unsay  those  words!  Tell  me  that  you  are  joking— that 
you  are  playing  with  my  feelings— anything,  anything,  Mollie,  except  that  you 
are  in  earnest!" 


66 

"I  never  was  more-in  earnest  in  my  life,"  she  quietly  and  firmly  replied. 

With  a  mighty  effort  she  had  beaten  back  the  surging  flood  of  excitement 
that  had  momentarily  embarrassed  her,  and  she  looked  the  picture  of  a  deter- 
mined, resolute  woman. 

There  were  words  of  reproach  upon  Jim  Parker's  lips,  but  he  caught  them 
in  his  teeth  and  held  them  back.  He  would  not  censure  her,  he  would  not 
curse  her. 

Irish  Mollie  could  read  his  thoughts.  She  was  waiting  for  the  denuncia- 
tion that  she  knew  was  struggling  for  utterance.  His  silence  was  oppressive. 
A  rebuke,  stinging  and  eloquent,  would  have  been  a  relief. 

Men  sometimes  form  sudden  resolutions.  Thoughts  flash  in  their  minds, 
and  on  the  instant  secret  determinations,  binding  as  though  they  had  been  de- 
liberated upon  for  weeks,  are  made. 

Jim  Parker  had  sealed  in  his  heart  a  secret  resolution. 

"You  do  not  speak,"  said  Mollie,  after  waiting  in  vain  for  the  words  she 
had  expected  to  kear;  "have  you  no  kind  wishes  of  luck  and  prosperity  to 
offer?" 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Jim,  with  forced  calmness;  "I  hardly  know  how  to  ex- 
press the  thoughts  that  this  surprise  have  sent  whirling  through  my  weary 
brain.  That  I  wish  you  well,  my  friend,  my  sister,  you  must  know.  That  I 
had  hoped  for  better  news  than  that,  you  can  readily  infer.  But,  if  the  reso- 
lution you  have  made  is  irrevocable,  no  words,  no  entreaties  of  mine  can  avail 
to  change  them,  and  I  bow  to  the  will  of  the  queen.  I  am  your  friend,  what- 
ever may  come!" 

The  train  stopped.    They  were  at  the  depot.    They  were  in  Chicago! 

"Mollie,"  said  Jim,  as  they  stepped  from  the  cars,  "I  must  leave  you  now. 
I  may  not  see  you  again  for  several  days.  Will  you  tell  me  where  you  are 
going  to  stop — where  you  can  be  found  if  your  brother  should  seek  for  you  ?" 

Mollie  was  astonished.  She  had  not  expected  that  the  man  who  loved  her 
would  abandon  her  so  soon.  Indeed,  she  had  been  worried  by  the  thought 
that  the  parting  would  be  a  most  painful  one  to  both  of  them.  She  did  not 
show  her  astonishment,  however,  nor  did  she  exhibit  the  shadow  of  chagrin 
that,  battle  with  her  feelings  as  she  would,  could  not  be  kept  down.  Her  an- 
swer to  his  question  was  prompt  and  commonplace: 

"I  have  decided  to  make  the  house  of  my  friend,  Ruth  Thomas,  my  tem- 
porary home.  To-night  I  shall  send  for  Ida  Preston,  and,  with  the  aid  of 
good  old  wine,  will  bury  care,  banish  trouble,  cast  sorrow  to  the  winds,  and 
make  this  good  old  town  howl!" 

Parker  looked  at  her  steadily,  sternly,  but  his  only  words  were,  "Good  bye, 
I  will  see  you  again!" 

And  he  turned  and  left  her. 

"Yes,"  he  muttered,  communing  with  himself,  "/  will  see  you  again,  Miss 
Mollie  Trussell-- TO-NIGHT!" 


CHAPTER  XXL 


Mollie  Trussell  met  with  an  unexpected  surprise  when  Jim  Parker,  with-' 
out  explanation  and  apparently  without  regret,  left  her  at   the  depot.    When 
she  was  deprived  of  liberty,  no  friend  could  have  been   more  constant,  more 
persistently  devoted  than  he  was.    Through  all  the  miseries  and   excitements 
of  the  later  years  of  her  life,  he  had  stuck  to  her  as  close   as   a   dear  brother 
could.    She  had  sternly,  firmly  rejected  his  lover-like  advances,  and  his  possi 
ble  importunities  in  that  direction  had  troubled  her  mind;  yet  when  he  turned 
his  back  upon  her  with  so  little  Concern,  seeming  to  abandon  her   without   re 
gret,  she  could  not  keep  back  a  feeling  of  disappointment  and  regret  trom  l 

'     "i  imagined  that  he  loved  me,"  ske  thought;  "I  really   believed   the  man 
weuld  persist  in  his  attentions  and  force  me  to   repel   him   with  words 
it  would  wring  my  heart  to  use.  Had  any  one  told  me  that  he  would  turn  from 


me  as  he  has  done,  I  should  have  been  offended.  What  dees  he,  what  can  he 
mean?  He  loved  me;  I  know  he  did;  I  could  swear  to  it.  Has  that  love  left 
his  heart  ?  Do  I  hope  it  has  ?  Oh,  heaven !  I  do  not  know— I  do  not  know !" 

A  coldness  crept  over  her,  battle  against  it  as  she  would,  and  there  was  lit- 
tle joy  in  her  heart  as  she  felt  herself  pressed  with  sisterly  affection  to  the 
heart  of  Ruth  Thomas. 

Miss  Thomas  was  waiting  with  a  conveyance  to  take  the  released  convict 
to  the  mansion  of  shame  kept  by  her  on  the  North  Side. 

"Mqllie!"  exclaimed  Ruth,  impetuously,  "why  are  you  so  sad?  why  so 
solemn  in  look,  when  blessed  freedom,  sweet  liberty  is  once  more  yours?" 

The  courtesan  queen,  as  she  had  styled  herself,  could  not  speak.  In  her 
bosom  there  was  a  heavy  load.  She  could  only  return  the  embrace,  press  the 
warm  hand  of  her  friend,  andjpillow  her  aching  head  on  the  sympathetic  bosom 
of  Ruth  Thomas.  . 

Little  was  said  as  they  drove  to  the  North  Side  bagnio. 

"Give  me  something  to  brace  up  on,  Ruth,"  she  said,  almost  as  soon  as  the 
door  was  closed. 

"Shall  it  be  wine?"  responded  the  party  addressed. 

"No!  Wine  is  not  strong  enough  to  drown  the  thoughts  that  press  upon 
me  so  heavily  now.  Give  me  brandy!" 

The  effects  of  one  drfnk,  when  a  person  feels  despondent  and  disconsolate, 
cannot  be  realized  except  by  those  who  have  experienced  the  sensation.  In 
Mollie's  case  the  "blues"  vanished  as  by  magic,  her  eyes  brightened,  her  spirits 
rose,  and  she  was  once  more  the  dashing  woman  whose  brilliancy  and  beauty 
had  turned  the  heads  of  men  renowned  for  solid  depth  of  character  and 
breadth  of  brain. 

Ida  Preston  and  Lou  Harper  were  sent  for,  and  at  the  dinner-table  none 
enjoyed  the  feast  more  than  Irish  Mollie.  none  were  more  reckless  than  she  in 
the  extravagance  of  delight  that  marked  the  merry  event.  Brandy  had  re- 
vived her.  Wine— sparkling,  bubbling,  nerve-giving  wine— had  fired  her  slug- 
gish blood  and  sent  its  effervescent  merriness  to  her  heart  and  brain. 

"We  shall  have  a  great  time  to-night,"  suggested  Ruth  Thomas,  as  they 
enjoyed  the  flavor  of  the  viands. 

"Why  so?"  inquired  Mollie,  as  she  emptied  a  wine-glass. 

"Oh,  I  had  forgotten  to  tell  you,"  exclaimed  Ruth.  "We  all  knew  that  you 
were  coining,  and  have  made  preparations  for  a  select  jubilee  to-night.  That 
friend  of  yours — the  one  I  saw  you  with  at  the  depot  as  you  got  off  the  cars — 
has  worked  harder  for  you,  I  really  believe,  than  any  man  ever  worked  for 
woman  before.  I  have  heard  of  him  wherever  I  have  been.  He  has  haunted 
the  houses  of  those  ladies  you  fooled  so  with  the  pious  racket,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve you  would  have  been  pardoned  but  for  his  devotion  and  his  sleepless  en- 
ergy. I  wouldn't  ask  for  a  better  friend  than  that  man,  if  I  was  in  trouble. 
He  must  be  a  lover  of  yours,  Mollie.  Send  for  him,  and  let  him  enjoy  with  us 
the  pleasures  of  the  hour  as  we  celebrate  the  release  he  did  so  much  to  se- 
eure!" 

Mollie's  face  crimsoned. 

"Oh,  that  man  is  a  mere  acquaintance,"  she  said.  Then  a  sudden  thought 
struck  her,  and  she  continued : 

"I  would  not  for  the  world  have  him  know  that  I  am  in  a  house  of  this 
kind.  He  is  a  religious  man,  and  has  interested  himself  in  my  behalf  because 
he  believed  I  was  sincere  in  the  play  I  was  making.  I  expected  to  meet  some 
of  my  old  friends,  and  sent  him  away  purposely,  because  I  did  not  want  to 
hurt  the  poor  man's  feelings  by  letting  him  know  the  truth.  I  shall  probably 
never  see  him  again.  I  shall  surely  never  see  him  in  a  house  of  this  kind!" 

The  lie  was  well  told.    The  women  believed  it. 

The  hours  rolled  on.  Evening  came.  The  parlors  were  illuminated,  and 
preparations  were  made  for  a  grand  celebration  of  the  event  that  made  them 
all  happy. 

The'house  kept  by  Ruth  Thomas  was  not  patronized  to  any  extent  by  the 
class  of  people  who  are  in  the  habit  of  frequenting  ordinary  sporting  houses. 
Solid  citi/.ens — judges,  lawyers,  artists,  merchants,  business  men — were  the 
people  upon  whom  she  relied  as  patrons.  She  was  largely  acquainted  in  the 


68 

city,  and  was  qualified  to  Delect  for  that  night's  guests  only  those  who  could 
mingle  agreeably  together. 

They  came  early,  and  long  before  midnight  the  parlors  were  comfortably 
filled,  The  most  of  them  had  seen  the  heroine  of  the  evening,  but  she  was 
personally  acquainted  with  but  few  of  them,  and  was  intimate  with  none  of 
them. 

Irish  Mollie  had  never  appeared  more  lovely  than  she  did  that  night.  Stim- 
ulants had  assisted  greatly  in  preparing  her  for  the  merrymaking.  The  rosy 
flush  upon  her  faultless  face  was  not  natural,  but  it  was  beautiful.  She  was 
dressed  with  care,  and  had  purposely  attired  herself  so  as  to  display,  to  the 
limit  of  decency,  the  wondrous  perfection  of  her  magnificent  form. 

All  who  met  her  admired  her.  Compliments,  earnest  and  sincere,  were 
showered  upon  her.  Other  beautiful  women  were  there,  but  their  beauty  could 
not  shine  in  the  presence  of  a  star  of  such  brilliant  magnitude. 

Several  gentlemen  were  more  than  courteous  in  their  attentions.  It  was 
understood  that  the  famous  woman  had  determined  upon  a  continuance  of  gay 
life,  that  she  was  even  then  ready  to  accept  advances,  and  that  the  man  with 
the  greatest  powers  of  persuasion,  with  the  most  eloquent  tongue  in  the  way 
of  flattery,  with  the  most  gifted  accomplishments  in  the  art  of  infatuation, 
would  be  the  lucky  winner  of  the  coveted  prize. 

With  such  an  "inducement  it  maybe  imagined  that  the  rivalry  was  hot,  and 
the. efforts  to  secure  her  smiles  and  her  favors  earnest  and  exciting. 

One  man  seemed  to  be  favored  more  than  all  others,  though  for  what  rea- 
son it  would  be  impossible  to  guess.  He  had  held  aloof  a  long  time,  giving 
the  others  every  opportunity  to  court  the  smiles  of  the  queen.  He  was  an  elder- 
ly gentlemen.  FuJly  fifty  years  had  sprinkled  his  head  with  the  frost  that 
betokened  the  early  autumn  of  life.  There  was  no  flash,  no  style  about  him. 
He  was,  too,  a  stranger.  Mollie  could  not  recollect  having  ever  met  him  be- 
fore; yet  he  talked  to  her  as  though  they  had  been  acquainted  for  years. 

Gradually  the  other  suitors  gave  up  the  contest.  The  stranger,  with  his 
quiet,  dignified  appearance,  his  courtly,  gentlemanly  manners,  and  his  calm, 
passionless,  sedate  conversation,  had  outstripped  his  dashing  rivals,  and  he 
was  gracefully  recognized  as  the  victor. 

"Who  is  that  lucky  old  man  ?"  whispered  Lou  Harper  to  Kuth,  late  in  the 

3  "f  really  do  not  know  his  name,  but  he  was  introduced  to  me  this  after- 
noon by  a  banker— one  of  our  company  to-night— and  came  here  with  him,  on 
my  invitation.  He  is  a  solid  bloke,  I  guess,  and  Mollie  is  a  sensible  girl  to  se- 
lect him  instead  of  these  handsome  young  fellows,  who  have  more  attractions 
in  person  but  less  money  in  pocket  than  he  has.  Don't  you  think  so,  Lou  ?' 

"I  do,  indeed,"  was  the  reply.  "Mollie  has  had  all  the  love  she  wants,  1 
guess,  in  this  business.  Money  is  what  she  is  looking  for  now.  Money  is  what 
any  girl  must  have  if  she  wants  to  hold  up  her  head  and  reign  as  a  queen  of 
beauty  You  and  I  have  lost  our  charms,  Kuth,  and  we  are  qualified,  I  take  it, 
to  act  as  judges  in  cases  of  this  kind.  Mollie  Trussell  could  not  have  done 
better  if  she  had  placed  herself  under  our  instructions  and  obeyed  our  orders. 
I  like  to  see  a  woman  have  sense.  Butterflies  are  handsome,  but  the  bees  are 
the  ones  that  provide  the  hoaey.  These  young  and  fawning  lovers  are  sweet 
but  the  old  cove  has  got  the  rocks,  and  he  is  the  man  for  Mollie  to  tie  to.  J5ut 
he  is  plain,  though,  and  I  am  astonished  that  a  girl  as  highly  strung  as  Mollie 
has  always  been  should  take  him  in  preference  to  some  of  the  more  agreeable 

1  Mollie's  "mash"  did  not^seem  to  be  affected  by  the  wine  he  had  drank,  but 
no  one  in  the  party  was  more  liberal  than  he  was  in  ordering  it.  Bottle  after 
bottle  was  cracked  by  his  invitation.  He  was  pleasant,  gentlemanly  but  not 
boisterous.  Had  Mollie  Trussell  been  on  trial  again  for  murder,  and  he  the 
Judge,  he  could  not  have  been  more  reserved,  more  frigidly  calm  and  un- 

The  reason  why  others  failed  where  he  had  won  can  be  easily  explained 
He  did  not  seek  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  famous  beauty  until  all  the 
others  had  been  introduced.    Then,  approaching  her  in  a  gentlemanly,  reserv- 
ed manner,  he  said,  in  low  tones,  so  that  he  could  not  be  overheard : 
"Miss  Mollie,  I  should  like  to  have  a  few  quiet  words  with  you? 


69 

They  retired  to  a  corner  not  then  occupied. 

"1  take  you  to  be  a  woman  of  sound  sense  and  solid  judgment,  after  the 
experience  of  the  past  few  months,"  he  said. 

Mollie  inclined  her  head. 

"What I  have  to  say  to  you  now  is  a  matter  of  business"  the  man  contin- 
ued. And  then  he  resumed  without  waiting  for  a  reply. 

"I  am  an  old  man,  Miss  Mollie,  and  have  none  of  the  pleasing  ways  that 
make  these  young  gentlemen  who  are  now  playing  for  your  smiles  so  attrac- 
tive. I  infer,  however,  that,  if  you  are  to  lead  the  life  of  a  gay  and  dashing 
courtesan,  you  had  rather  be  an  old  man's  darling  and  wear  diamonds,  than  a 
young  man's  pet  without  them." 

"Go  on,"  said  Mollie,  with  encouragement  in  voice  and  manner.  She  was 
pleased  with  the  old  gentleman's  frankness. 

"I  am  rich,"  were  the  banker's  next  words,  "and  I  have  no  one  on  whom 
to  lavish  the  wealth  that  is  daily  accumulating  in  my  business,  I  do  not 
tell  you  that  I  love  you,  do  not  ask  you  to  dream  of  loving  me.  I  am  not  so 
blind  nor  so  foolish  as  that.  But  I  will  tell  you,  plainly,  that  I  admire  you; 
that  I  am  infatuated  with  your  great  beauty ;  that  I  have  sought  this  interview 
to  make  a  bid  for  the  loveliness  that  has  so  pleased  me;  and  that,  if  you  will  in 
a  lady-like  way,  as  pleasantly  as  you  can,  command  all  others  to  keep  at  a 
respectful  distance,  and  give  them  to  understand  that,  for  this  night,  I  am  to 
be  your  friend,  you  will  be  one  thousand  dollars  richer  to-morrow  than  you 
are  to-day.  This  proposition  is  plain  and  blunt.  As  to  my  financial  standing, 
Miss  Thomas  can  consult  with  the  friend  who  brought  me  here,  and  who  will 
become  surety  for  any  sum  earned  by  me." 

Mollie  was  not  slow  to  decide.  She  admired  the  old  man's  candor;  and  he 
was  not  such  a  repulsive  old  man,  either. 

The  reader  now  knows  why  the  stranger  was  favored  by  the  heroine  of 
that  evening  and  this  romance.  He  had  bought  her. 

Irish  Moliie  drank  freely,  and  her  new-found  friend,  instead  of  restraining 
her,  as  most  gentlemen  under  the  circumstances  naturally  would,  encouraged 
her  in  the  indulgence  that  could  only  end  in  partial  if  not  absolute  loss  of 
self-control.  She  became  boisterous,  and  demonstrative  in  a  marked  degree. 

"This is  my  solid  man!"  she  cried,  as  she  held  high  a  glass  of  sparkling 
champagne,  and  placed  a  fair,  round  white  arm  around  his  neck. 

Her  grave  companion  did  not  smile,  but  he  touched  glasses  with  her, 
drank,  and  kissed  her. 

One  by  one  the  guest  departed.  Lou  Harper  had  gone,  and  Ida  Preston 
and  her  gentleman  friend  were  all  ready  to  leave,  and  had  come  to  bid  Mollie 
good-night— or  good  morning,  rather,  for  daylight  Avas  not  far  away. 

"Won't  you  go  home  with  me  ?"  asked  Ida,  as  she  took  the  hand  of  her  for- 
mer associate  and  friend,  and  pressed  it  warmly. 

"Oh,  no,  Ida.  dear,  my  place  is  here,"  responded  Mollie.  laying  her  head 
upon  the  old  gentleman's  breast  lovingly,  confidingly,  almost  affectionately. 

"It  is  settled  that  way  for  sure,  is  it  ?"  playfully  remarked  Ida ;  "well,  it 
has  looked  that  way  all  the  evening,  and  I  am  not  much  disappointed.  Permit 
me  to  wish  you  much  joy!" 

They  were  the  last  couple  to  go.  Irish  Mollie  and  her  chosen  companion 
were  left  alone.  Even  Kuth  Thomas  had  bid  them  good  night. 

"Come!"  said  Mollie,  rising,  gently  pulling  him  towards  her. 

For  the  first  time  that  night  the  old  gentleman  exhibited  indications  of 
pleasure.  Joy  beamed  on  his  honest  face,  and  from  his  eyes  there  shot  glances 
of  ardent  affection,  while  from  his  lips  there  came  but  a  single  word: 

"DAKLING!" 

What  was  it  that  made  that  beautiful  courtesan  start  and  tremble  ?  Why 
did  she  turn  pale  as  the  frescoed  ceiling!  What  horror  was  it  that  made  her 
heart  stand  still  ? 

Ah!  well  she  knew  what  it  was!  That  word,  darling,  had  never  greeted 
her  before  except  from  the  lips  of  one  whose  pale,  dead  face  even  then  stared 
at  her,  outlined  by  a  memory  that  she  would  have  blotted  from  her  mind  if 
she  could! 

With  a  mighty  effort  she  regained  the  composure  that  for  a  moment  had 
deserted  her,  and  again,  with  forced  hilarity,  she  said: 


70 

"Come!" 

The  old  man's  arm  encircled  her  waist.  He  pressed  her  passionately  to 
his  bosom.  She  could  feel  the  mad,  wild  beating  of  his  heart! 

Without  another  word  they  left  the  parlor,  another  door  closed  upon  them, 
the  key  turned  with  a  musical  click,  and  they  were  alone! 

Little  did  Irish  Mollie  dream  of  the  startling  sequel  that  would  follow 
that  night's  revels ! 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Ida  Prestoa  was  an  interested  spectator  of  the  merrymaking  in  the  house 
of  Kuth  Thomas,  on  the  night  following  the  day  on  which  Mollie  Trussell  was 
released.  Ida  was  Mollie's  tirm,  true,  honest  friend.  They  confided  in  each 
other,  loved  each  other.  They  were  prostitutes,  it  is  true,  but  they  loved  as 
affectionately  as  though  they  had  been  sisters  by  blood,  pure  as  the  purest. 
Though  Ida  led  a  fast  life,  and  would  not  hesitate  to  take  part  in  any  wicked- 
ness usual  to  resorts  of  sin,  she  was  really  a  girl  of  principle ;  at  the  base  of  all 
her  badness  there  was  a  solid  ground-word  of  honesty  and  integrity.  She  was 
the  first  to  notice  the  tokens  of  favor  bestowed  upon  the  eld  gentleman  by 
Irish  Mollie,  and  the  circumstances  troubled  her. 

Why  did  it  trouble  her  ?  Her  own  words,  further  along  in  this  chapter, 
will  explain. 

When  the  festivities  of  the  evening  were  at  their  height,  and  Irish  Mollie, 
sitting  on  the  knee  of  her  new-found  friend,  was  sipping  wine  and  bringing 
all  her  powers  of  fascination  into  play,  she  chanced  to  look  across  the  room. 

A  pair  of  eyes  were  staring  at  her  with  a  meaning  that  made  the  merry 
girl  start! 

"What  is  the  matter  with  Ida?"  she  thought;  "why  does  she  stare  at  me 
BO  seriously,  so  reproachfully  ?  What  can  I  have  done  to  offend  her?" 

It  required  an  effort  to  turn  from  that  steadily  staring  girl ;  but  she  was 
equal  to  the  occasion,  and  the  few  minutes  of  merry  conversation  that  follow- 
ed banished  from  her  mind  the  incident  that  had  momentarily  annoyed  her. 

Again  she  looked  across  the  room,  and  again  her  eyes  were  confronted  by 
the  same  searching,  penetrating  gaze  that  had  sent  through  her  a  cold,  creep- 
ing chill. 

The  beautiful  courtesan  was  alarmed. 

"Will  you  excuse  me,  while  I  speak  to  a  lady  friend  ?"  she  whispered  to  the 
old  banker. 

"Certainly,  dear,"  he  replied,  with  the  dignity  and  courtesy  that  always 
mark  the  well-bred  gentleman ;  "but  do  not  remain  long  away,"  he  continued, 
"for  without  you  I  should  feel  strangely  out  of  place  in  the  society  of  these 
free-and-easy  revelers — these  dashing  men  and  brilliant  women  of  the  town." 

"I  shall  return  soon,"  replied  Mollie,  "and  when  I  do  come  you  shall  have 
a  sweet  kiss  as  a  reward  for  your  kindness  in  consenting  to  let  me  go." 

"A  kiss  from  your  lovely  lips  will  repay  the  torture  of  a  whole  hour's  ab> 
sence,"  was  the  gallant  response  of  the  old  man. 

"Flatterer !"  whispered  the  smiling  charmer,  as  she  arose  and  playfully 
boxed  the  ears  of  her  ardent  but  aged  admirer. 

"How  beautiful  she  is!"  he  thought;  "and  for  to-night  she  is  mine— all 
mine!"  And,  victor  that  he  was  in  the  race  for  a  fair  woman's  favor,  he  sigh- 
ed with  a  depth  that  spoke  of  a  deeper  feeling  than  the  passing  frivolties  of 
the  hour  seemed  to  warrant.  Was  he  in  love  so  soon  ? 

Like  a  flash  the  smile  faded  from  the  face  of  Irish  Mollie. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  when  the  two  girls  met:  but  both  knew  that  an 
explosion  or  explanation  of  some  kind  must  follow.  Silently  Ida  arose,  and 
they  retired  to  the  privacy  of  an  adjacent  room. 

"Ida!"  whispered  Mollie,  earnestly,  "what  has  happened?  What  have  I 
done  ?  How  have  I  offended  you  ?" 

"Have  I  said  that  I  was  offended,  Mollie  ?" 


71 

"In  words,  no !    In  looks,  yes  1" 

"And  can  you  not  guess  ?" 

"Oa  my  soul,  BO!" 

"Mollie  Trussell,  tkink!" 

"Think!    Oh,  Ida,  do  not  ask  me  to  think!    I  cannot,  I  dare  not  think!" 

"But  you  shall  think,  Mollie  Trussell!  I  will  drag  you  from  the  arms  of 
that  man  and  make  you  think !" 

She  spoke  frowningly,  threateningly. 

There  dawned  upon  the  mind  of  Irish  Mollie  a  startling  suspicion!  She 
folded  her  sinning  sister  in  her  arms  and  kissed  her. 

"Ida,"  she  whispered,  tenderly,  "forgive  me!  I  did  not  dream  that  I  was 
taking  your  place  in  the  affections  of  that  man !  I  did  not  even  suspect  that 
you  ever  saw  him  before!  Banish  these  ugly  frowns,  my  little  friend,  go  back 
with  me  to  the  parlor  that  we  came  from,  and  see  how  cleverly  I  can  surren- 
der him,  and  how  nicely  I  can  throw  you  back  in  to  his  arms — the  rascal!" 

Once  more  her  face  wore  smiles,  but  no  smiles  mingled  with  hers!  Ida 
Preston, pale,  solemn,  serene,  answered  slowly: 

"I  never, saw  that  man  until  to-night!    He  is  nothing  to  me,  Mollie!" 

The  Irish  girl  was  nettled,  and  a  sharp  reply  was  on  her  lips,  but  before 
she  could  speak  Ida's  bloodless  lips  were  loosened. 

"Do  not  be  off  ended,  my  friend,"  she  said,  "at  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you. 
I  cannot  think  that  you  are  so  hardened  and  toughened  by  the  experience  of 
the  past  few  months  that  you  will  refuse  to  listen  when  I  speak  to  you  of-  a 
matter  that  has  already  affected  -me  to  tears." 

Mollie  Trussell  was  completely  mystified. 

"Go  on;  I  will  listen,"  she  said,  wonderingly. 

"Have  you  a  heart,  Mollie  ?"  queried  Ida,  earnestly. 

"The  same  warm,  affectionate,  loyal,  loving  heart  I  always  had!" 

"I  doubt  it!" 

"Tell  me  why!    Tell  me  all  you  think!" 

"I  am  afraid  that  what  I  have  to  say  will  not  fall  upon  willing  ears;  but  I 
will  say  it,  and  you  must  listen!" 

"I  am  eager  to  hear!" 

"Mollie,"  resumed  Ida,  "I  had  a  visitor  this  afternoon — a  friend  of  yours!" 

"A  friend  of  mine?  Ah,  you  are  mistaken  this  time,  Ida,  dear,  for  I  have 
no  friend.  You  are  my  only,  my  dearest,  my  best  loved  friend!" 

"And  can  you  think  of  no  other  V" 

"None!    In  the  whole  world,  not  one!" 

The  tears  came  to  the  Irish  girl's  eyes  as  she  said  this. 

"You  are  strangely  forgetful,  Mollie  Trussell!" 

"I  do  not  understand  you." 

"The  man  who  called  upon  me  to-day  is  a  friend  of  yours,  who  has  proved 
his  devotion  by  acts  that  it  seems  to  me  would  melt  any  heart  that  was  not 
made  of  stone!" 

Irish  Mollie  trembled  as  she  said: 

"You  refer,  I  suppose,  to" — 

"Jim  Parker!" 

Ida  snatched  the  words  out  of  the  mouth  of  her  beautiful  companion. 
She  would  not  allow  that  man's  name  to  be  mentioned  in  such  cold,  uncon- 
cerned, freezing  accents. 

"Mr.  Parker  was  my  friend,  I  do  believe,"  said  Mollie,  with  a  trifle  of  feel- 
ing in  her  voice,  "but  he  is  so  no  longer.  Why,  he  left  me  to-day  with  us  little 
ceremony  as  one  would  part  with  a  street  acquaintance.  He  almost  hurried 
from  me,  as  though  he  were  ashamed  to  be  seen  with  a  released  convict!" 

The  haughty  queen  of  beauty  spoke  as  though  she  felt  hurt. 

"And  yet  that  man  loves  you!  He  loves  you  madly,  truly,  fervently!  He 
would  marry  y9u  to-night  if  you  would  consent!" 

Ida  spoke  calmly,  seriously. 

"How  could  he  marry  me  to  night  when  he  is  not  here  V" 

"But  he  will  be  here!  The  last  words  he  said  to  me  were, '/  shall  see  Irish 
Mollie  to-night /'  Has  he  not  been  here  already '?" 

A  crimson  tinge  reddened  the  cheeks  of  Mollie  Trussell  as  she  heard  these 
words.  She  was  pleased  against  her  will.  Jim  Parker  bad  not  forgotten  her, 
after  all. 


72 

"No,"  she  said,  answering  the  question  of  her  friend,  "I  have  not  seen  Mr. 
Parker  since  I  saw  him  at  the  depot;  and  he  will  certainly  not  be  here,  for  it  is 
late  already,  and  some  of  the  guests  are  even  now  getting  ready  to  go.  I  sin- 
cerely hope  he  will  not  come,  for  his  presence  might  prove  an  annoyance  rather 
than  a  source  of  pleasure." 

She  tried  to  appoar  indifferent,  but  could  not.  There  was  a  lump  in  her 
throat.  She  spoke  with  a  great  effort.  Ida  could  read  her  thoughts,  and  she 
smiled. 

"Your  lips  do  not  speak  the  words  that  your  heart  dictates,"  she  said;  "I 
believe  you  would  be  glad  to  see  Jim  Parker  walk  through  that  door  this  min- 
ute. You  cannot  spurn  love  like  his." 

"I  respect  him  very  much;  it  would  be  painful  to  displease  him,  and  for 
that  reason  I  do  not  want  to  see  him  here.  But  you  say  you  saw  him  to-day. 
What  did  he  say  ?" 

"He  said,  'You  will  see  Irish  Mollie  at  the  festival.  Tell  her  I  have  not 
forgotten  her,  and  that  if  she  should  see  me  when  she  leasts  expects  to,  she 
must  not  be  alarmed,  must  not  be  offended.  1  have  watched  and  waited  for 
years,  and  I  will  win  her,  by  fair  means  or  by  foul !'  Those  were  his  very 
words  Mollie;  and  I  tell  you  that,  knowing  such  love  burns  for  you  in  a  true 
man's  breast,  it  makes  me  hate  you  when  I  see  you  throwing  yourself  away  on 
an  old  lecher  like  the  one  I  saw  you  entertaining  so  affectionately  in  the  par- 
lor!" 

"So  this  lover  of  mine  has  made  threats,  has  he  ?" 

The  hot  Irish  blood  of  the  fair  heroine  was  rising. 

"He  spoke  like  a  man." 

"Then  hear  me  speak!  I  tell  you  now,  and  I  would  tell  him  were  he  here, 
that  I  will  never  be  anything  more  to  Jim  Parker  than  I  have  been !  He  can 
be  to  me  as  a  brother,  but,  so  help  me  God,  he  can  be  nothing  more!" 

Was  it  a  groan  they  heard  ? 

The  door  was  slightly  ajar.  Both  girls  rushed  to  open  it,  but  there  was  no 
listener  there! 

The  conference  was  over.  Irish  Mollie. was  restored  to  the  old  gentleman, 
who  smiled  pleasantly  as  he  said: 

"I  had  almost  feared  that  you  had  forgotten  me  entirely.  I  trust  you  have 
enjoyed  yourselves  while  away  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  dear,  we  have  had  a  lovely  little  chat  together.  But  it  was  dry 
talk,  though!" 

"Cleverly  said,"  returned  the  banker,  merrily,  as  he  ordered  wine. 

Many  more  bottles  followed,  and  Irish  Mollie  appeared  eager  to  drink  to 
excess— ambitious  to  become  drunk'. 

She  was  afraid  Jim  Parker  would  keep  his  word!  She  wanted  thesupport 
of  such  courage  as  wine  gives,  when  he  came.  She  knew  he  would  be  there; 
she  believed  he  was  there;  she  was  wild,  crazy,  mad;  and,  when  the  time  came 
to  say  good-night  to  all,  it  required  all  the  courage  in  her  heart  to  drive  haunt- 
ing suspicions  away,  and  bid  her  elderly  lover  come  as  she  led  the  way  to  a 
bed-chamber  1 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


As  recorded  in  a  previous  chapter,  Mollie  Trussell  and  her  elderly  suitor, 
after  bidding  good-bye  to  all,  entered  the  room  that  had  been  set  aside  by 
Kuth  Thomas  for  her  use,  and  the  key  was  turned  that  made  their  privacy 
more  secure. 

"Thank  God  I  am  safe !"  exclaimed  the  courtesan  queen,  involuntarily, 
without  seeming  to  realize  that  she  was  in  the  presence  of  a  man— a  stranger. 

There  was  surprise  in  the  voice  of  her  companion  as  he  said: 

"You  seem  to  be  excited  and  alarmed,  dear.  Tell  me  the  reason,  please, 
for  I  cannot  understand  that  danger  of  any  kind  has  menaced  you." 

"Excuse  me,  sir.    I  was  only  thinking.    There   was  no   meaning  to  the 


74 

words  you  heard.    I  am  a  poor,  foolish,  excitable  girl,  and  the  slightest  causes 
sometimes  produce  effects  that  are  ridiculous." 

"Then  there  must  have  been  a  slight  cause  for  that  exclamation,  "/  am 
fOfeF  Confide  in  me,  dear,  I  will  be  your  friend.  If  there  is  danger  in  your 
path,  tell  me.  I  am  an  old  man,  Miss  Mollie,  but  I  have  some  strength  and 
courage  left,  and  if  the  necessity  should  arise  I  would  fight  for  you  as  zealous- 
ly and  as  bravely  as  could  any  of  those  young  lovers  you  have^.  abandoned  for 

The  old  man  spoke  as  though  he  meant  what  he  said. 

"Really,  there  was  nothing  in  that  foolish,  hasty,  thoughtless  remark.  I 
do  not  and  have  not  anticipated  danger  of  any  kind." 

"But  there  is  something  in  it!    What  were  you  thinking  about,  Mollie  ?" 

"I  do  not  know !  Wine  might  have  muddled  my  brain.  I  have  drank  more 
to-night  than  I  ever  drank  before,  in  one  night,  in  my  life.  And  yet  I  do  not 
feel  the  slightest  effects  of  drinking.  I  wish  I  did,  oh,  how  I  wish  I  did!" 

The  old  man  invited  her  to  a  seat  on  a  sofa,  at  his  side.  He  did  not  act 
like  a  man  accustomed  to  adventures  such  as  he  was  then  engaged  in. 

"Did  you  lock  the  door  V"  shte  asked,  nervously. 

"I  did,  my  dear." 

"Are  you  sure  V" 

"Of  course  I  am  sure;  but  supposing  the  door  was  not  locked — are  there 
any  robbers  about  the  house?" 

"No,  not  robbers — but  some  one  might  possibly  come  in." 

His  word  would  not  satisfy  her.  She  tried  the  door,  examined  all  the  clos- 
ets, peered  into  every  corner,  and  firmly  convinced  that  they  were  absolutely 
alone,  sat  down.  A  sigh  of* relief  swelled  in  her  bosom  as  she  did  so. 

She  did  not  mean  to  betray  her  fears,  but  the  old  gentleman  seemed  quick 
to  catch  and  comprehend  them. 

His  arms  encircled  her  waist,  He  held  her  hand  in  his.  He  was  just  as 
calm,  just  as  solemn,  as  he  had  been,  with  a  single  exception,  during  the  whole 
evening.  Irish  Mollie  had  expected  a  demonstration  of  exultation  and  joy 
over  his  victory,  but  she  was  disappointed— happily  disappointed. 

The  beautiful  girl  liad  sold  herself  to  this  old  man,  and  he  was  proving  a 
most  desirable  purchaser. 

"Mollie,  dear,"  said  the  kind  old  gentleman,  "kiss  me!" 

She  kissed  him.  The  request,  she  thought,  was  quite  reasonable,  and  to 
be  expected. 

"Press  me  to  your  heart  and  tell  me  that  you  love  me!"  he  commanded. 

She  treififoled  and  did  not  comply. 

"I  cannot  do  that,  sir,  because,  bad  woman  that  I  am,  I  am  honest,  and 
will  not  lie.  I  do  not.  cannot  love  you!" 

"I  knew  it,"  he  replied,  pleasantly,  "and  I  am  glad  you  refused.  I  can  res- 
pect you  now,  but  if  you  had  consented,  as  I  requested,  I  should  have  known 
you  to  be  a  hypocrite  'and  a  wanton,  whose  soul  was  for  sale,  as  well  as  her 
charms!" 

Mollie  was  silent. 

"Tell  me,  Mollie,"  he  continued,  coaxingly,  "what  is  it  that  troubles  you  so 
this  morning ?  Be  frank  with  me.  Trust  me." 

Convinced  that  she  could  not  deceive  him,  Mollie  decided  to  reveal  at  least 
a  portion  of  the  truth. 

"I  rather  expected  a  disagreeable  visitor,"  she  explained,  "I  have  been  told 
that  a  man  threatened  to  come  here  to-night,  whom  I  did  not  wish  to  see.  I 
did  not  know  when  to  look  for  him,  nor  where;  and  when,  at  last,  I  reached 
this  room,  after  the  house  had  closed,  and  became  certain  that  he  could  not 
possibly  keep  his  word,  a  great  feeling  of  relief  overcame  me,  and  the  words 
you  heard  came  to  my  lips  without  my  really  knowing  whut  I  said.  So  now 
you  know  all.  I  have  really  told  you  the  truth. 

"But  this  man  that  you  speak  of— who  is  he,  and  what  reason  have  you  for 
fearing  him  V" 

"He  is  a  man  who  has  greatly  befriended  me.  I  do  not  fear  him,  though. 
I  do  not  think  he  would  harm  me  were  all  the  riches  in  the  world  laid  at  his 
feet.  I  respect  him,  I  like  him,  but— well,  that  is  all  I  I  did  not  wish  to  be 
annoyed  by  his  importunities." 


75 

"Does  this  man  love  you,  Mollie  ?" 

"He  has  told  ine  so.  Yes,  I  think,  I  know  he  loves  me.  I  only  wish  that 
he  did  not." 

"Has  he  loved  you  long  ?" 

"Years,  sir."  & 

"Is  he  an  honest  man  V" 

"Honest,  noble,  kind — he  is  all  these,  and  more." 

"Don't  you  think  you  could  love  him  a  little  if  you  tried  V" 

"Oh,  do  not  ask  me!    I  do  not  know!" 

"Suppose  he  should  come  here  now,  and  I  should  withdraw  and  ask  him  t© 
take  my  place,  what  would  you  say  ?" 

"I  would  despise,  scorn  and  hate  him!" 

"Why  ?" 

"Because  he  would  be  a  sneak!  But  why  talk  of  him  V  I  know  he  will 
not  come  in  that  way,  for  he  is  too  manly." 

"Do  you  think  he  will  quietly  leave  you,  and  find  some  one  else  to  caress 
and  love  ?" 

A  pain  shot  through  that  girl's  heart,  and  she  shook  as  from  an  attack  of 
ague! 

Why  did  this  old  man  question  her  so  closely  ?  She  could  not  understand  it. 

"Pardon  me  for  being  so  inquisitive,"  he  continued,  "but  I  have  a  strange 
fascination  for  the  romances  of  this  life  that  we  are  all  passing  through.  I 
like  to  learn  of  the  mysteries  and  miseries  that  gladden  with  joy  or  rend  with 
despair  the  human  heart.  I  believe  that  you  would  be  jealous  if  you  were  to 
see  this  young  man  that  you  have  spoken  of  in  the  arms  of  another  woman. 
Now,  tell  me  truly,  Mollie,  would  you  not  ?" 

No  reply  came  to  the  lips  of  Irish  Mollie.  She  was  dumb.  There  was  a 
far-away  look  in  her  eyes,  and  she  stared  at  vacancy.  She  looked  like  one  in  a 
trance. 

That  mysterious,  emotionless  old  man  was  also  silent.  He  did  not  want 
to  interrupt  the  train  of  thought  that  was  rushing  at  high  pressure  speed 
through  the  brain  of  the  woman  whose  attentions  he  had  paid  for. 

Suddenly  remembering  where  she  was,  Mollie  with  an  effort  shook  off  that 
oppressive  sensation  that  had  mesmerized  her,  and  turned  to  her  silently-gaz- 
ing companion  with  a  look  that  meant  an  apology  and  an  appeal. 

"You  did  not  answer  my  question,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"It  is  not  a  fair  question,  and  I  cannot  answer  it." 

"In  what  respect  is  it  not  fair  ?   Are  you  not  mistress  of  your  own  mind  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  suppose  I  am.  But  it  is  preposterous — improbable«r-impossible. 
Jim  Parker  is  incapable  of  an  act  like  that!" 

"Jim  Parker!    That,  then,  is  the  young  man's  name." 

"It  is.    I  was  careless,  thoughtless  in  speaking  it." 

"Well,  now,  suppose  I  should  tell  you  that  I  know  Jim  Parker  well ;  sup- 
pose I  should  tell  you  that  I  have  seen  him  this  very  evening;  suppose  that  I 
should  tell  you  he  loves" 

"Stop!"  gaspetl  Mollie. 

"Why  should  I  stop?" 

"Because  I  command  you!  I  will  not  listen  to  one  word  against  that 
man!  If  you  should  tell  me  that  he  loves  another  woman  I  would  tell  you  to 
your  teeth  that  you  lie!" 

"I  did  not  tell  you  so.  I  did  not  tell  you  that  I  know  him.  I  did  not  tell 
you  that  he  loves  any  one.  I  was  merely  supposing !" 

"Your  are  right,  sir,  and  I  was  wrong,  but  I  am  weak  Jiere,"  placing  her 
hand  upon  her  brow,  "and  you  must  overlook  my  folly." 

"Will  you  permit  me  to  continue?" 

"If  you  insist,  yes." 

"I  do  not  insist,  Mollie.  I  would  not  pain  you.  If  to  talk  of  that  man 
annoys  you,  I  will  stop  short  and  say  no  more." 

"It  does  not  particularly  annoy  me.  I  will  listen  to  anything  that  you 
may  say." 

"As  I  was  saying,  then,  we  will  suppose  that  I  do  really  know  Parker; 
we  will  suppose  that  lie  sent  me  here  in  his  place!" 

"Oh,  heaven!"  cried  Mollie,  clasping  her  hands  with  impassioned  vehe- 
mence - 


76 

jrds 

vwy      . ,   i«_,    i^vx^\^i«jxAA^     VA.v*UV,'\A»          iJ.V>     UO-AVyV*    uO    Ov/11  l*i  V/l    11J.O      ¥  W1VC.         UllO         lit'         I. 

Seizing  hold  of  her  arm  and  pulling  her  towards  him,  he  whispered- 

"We  will  suppose,  Mollie  Trussell,  that" 

"What  ?"  shrieked  the  excited  girl,  beside  herself   with   exciten 
1's  sake  tell  me  what!" 

"We  will  suppose  that  JIM  PARKER  is  MY  SON!" 
With  a  low  moan  tke  beautiful  Irish  girl  fell  back  upon  the  sofa,  insensible, 


The  old  man  did  not  heed  her  words  or  her  despairing,  agonizing  face.  HA, 
too,  was  becoming  excited.  He  tried  to  control  his  voice,  but  he  could  not. 
zing  hold  of  her  arm  and  pulling  her  towards  him,  he  whispered- 

"We  will  suppose,  Mollie  Trussell,  that" 

"What?"  shrieked  the  excited  girl,  beside  herself  with  excitement,  "for 
God's  sake  tell  me  what!" 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


There  was  a  strange  expression  on  the  face  of  that  old  man  as  he  looked 
down  upon  the  woman  who  had  swooned  in  his  presence.  He  had  arisen  from 
the  sofa,  and  stood  over  her,  his  eyes  riveted  on  her  face.  His  heart  beat  wild- 
ly, his  breast  heaved  with  emotion,  and  he  seemed  to  be  enduring  an  agony 
that  found  no  expression  in  words.  He  was  dumb,  but  in  every  fibre  of  his 
body  there  was  that  mute  eloquence  that  sometimes  thrills  the  beholder  as 
nothing  else  can. 

Irish  Mollie's  shock  was  but  momentary.  She  opened  her  eyes,  sLowly  and 
shuddered  as  they  encountered  the  earnest,  passionate  gaze  of  that  strange  man. 

Then  she  remembered  what  he  had  said — "suppose  that  Jim  Parker  is  my 
son!" — and  it  required  all  the  courage  that  was  in  her  to  retain  the  coascious- 
ness  that  the  sensational  scene  had  deprived  her  of.  The  mental  struggle  was 
soon  over,  and  again  she  was  herself. 

"Sir,"  she  said,  breaking  the  oppressive  silence,  "it  was  cruel  of  you  to  take 
advantage  of  a  poor  girl  whose  troubles  should  have  commanded  pity.  Had  I 
known  who  you  were,  all  the  money  in  Chicago  could  not  have  tempted  me  to 
do  even  so  little  as  I  have  already  done." 

The  man  did  not  speak. 

Irish  Mollie  resumed: 

"I  am  grateful,  Mr.  Parker,  that  you  lifted  the  mask  so  soon.  I  release 
you  from  the  obligation — the  price  you  bought  me  with — and  now,  if  you  will 
be  good  enough  to  retire,  and  leave  me  to  mj  borrows  and  my  thoughts,  I  shall 
esteem  it  a  great  favor." 

She  tried  to  appear  haughty  and  queenly,  but  there  was  a  pathos  in  her 
voice  that  her  looks  could  not  dispel.  She  was  laboring  under  excitement 
and  endeavoring  to  suppress  it. 

The  man  was  still  stone.    He  did  not  speak. 

"You  do  not  go,  you  do  not  speak,"  exclaimed  Mollie,  after  a  moment's 
pause. 

"I  did  not  come  here  with  the  intention  of  going  away  so  soon,"  said  the 
old  man,  slowly.  And  then  he  continued : 

"I  bought  you,  Mollie  Trussell,  and  you  are  mine!  I  do  not  care  to  break 
the  contract!  I  hold  you  to  the  bargain  1" 

"Oh,  Mr.  Parker!"— 

"Did  I  say  my  name  was  Parker  ?" 

"You  said  you  was  Jim  Parker's  father!" 

"I  did  not!"* 

"What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"I  said,  Miss  Mollie,  as  you  will  perhaps  remember  if  you  recall  my  words, 
'suppose  that  Jim  Parker  is  my  son.'  Those  were  my  exact  words." 

"And  you  are  not  his  father  V" 

"I  am  not!  You,  Mollie,  are  as  near  related  to  me  by  blood,  so  far  as  I 
know,  as  any  human  being  in  Chicago!" 

"Then  you  were  playing  upon  my  feelings!" 

"I  was  testing  you.  I  wanted  to  sound  you,  I  wanted  to  know  to  what 
extent  your  affections  were  encumbered.  I  wanted  to  learn,  by  strategy, 
whether  your  heart  was  tied  up  or  free." 

"You  led  me  to  believe  that  you  had  seen  Parker— that  he  had  sent  you 


77 

here — that  there  was  some  secret  understanding  between  you   and  him.    "Was 
that  true,  or  was  you  only  supposing  all  the  way  through  ?" 

He  evaded  the  question. 

"Come,  come,"  he  said,  pleasantly,  "let  us  talk  no  more  on  this  upleasant 
subject;  let  us  think  no  more  of  it;  let  us  drown  passing  cares  in  wine!  Will 
you  ling  for  a  servant  and  a  bottle,  dear  ?" 

"No!    I  have  had  wine  enough.    I  will  drink  no  more— with  you!" 

"Are  you  seriously  offended,  Mollie  ?" 

"Yes,  I  *n." 

"And  can't  you  forgive  me  ?" 

"I  cannot—  I  will  not." 

"And  why  not,  dear  ?" 

"Address  me  no  more,  sir,  in  endearing  terms.  I  do  not  want  them.  I 
do  not  want  your  money.  I  do  not  want  your  company.  I  hate  you !" 

"Indeed!  If  I  was  Jim  Parker  perhaps  my  society  would  be  more  pleas- 
ant and  my  presence  more  congenial  ?" 

The  old  man  assumed  a  tone  of  sneering  sarcasm. 

"I  am  free  to  say  that  it  would,"  was  the  prompt  and  quickly-uttered 
reply. 

Irish  Mollie  did  nor  notice  the  gleam  of  exultation  that  shot  its  radiance 
across  the  old  man's  face.  She  did  not  notice  that  the  answer  pleased  him.  It 
was  her  aim  to  offend  him,  and  drive  him  away.  She  wanted  to  rid  herself  of 
an  unwelcome  visitor. 

"But  I  will  not  go,"  he  ventured  to  remark,  resuming  his  seat  and  looking 
at  her  defiantly. 

"Then  I  will!"  said  Irish  Mollie,  sharply,  springing  to  the  door. 

It  was  locked,  and  the  key  was  missing! 

The  old  man  laughed. 

"Why  don't  you  go,  darling?"  he  sneered;  "your  lover  might  be  waiting  for 
YOU  on  the  outside!" 

"Give  rne  the  key !"  she  almost  shrieked. 

Anger  was  fast  getting  the  proud  girl  under  control. 

"What  a  foolish  man  I  would  be  to  do  that,"  he  replied,  with  exasperating 
sangfroid;  "don't  you  think  it  would  be  folly  for  a  man  who  had  chased  a 
valuable  bird  to  a  trap  to  open  the  cage  door  and  let  the  imprisoned  beauty  ily 
away  ?" 

"I  am  not  a  bird,  sir,  and  you  have  not  captured  me,  as  you  may  think, 
even  though  you  have  stolen  the  key  to  my  door!  I  am  not  afraid  of  you, 
either,  old  man!" 

She  spoke  hotly.    She  was  mad. 

"You  need  not  be  afraid,  dear,"  he  interrupted,  mildly;  "I  would  not  harm 
you.  and  I  would  die  right  here  in  this  room  before  I  would  let  harm  come  to 
you!" 

"You  would?" 

She  spoke  wonderingly,  thoughtfully. 

"Yes,  Mollie,  I  surely  would." 

"You  would  die  for  me  ?" 

"If  necessary  to  protect  or  shield  you,  I  would." 

"Why  would  you  endanger  your  own  life  for  my  safety,  old  man?  It  is 
not  more  than  seven  hours  since  you  first  spoke  to  me." 

"Isn't  it?" 

"No,  sir,  it  is  not.  And  another  thing — I  believe  you  are  'guying'  me. 
You  think  I  am  a  fool." 

"Do  not  say  thaf,"  the  old  man  said,  seriously,  reproachfully;  "in  all  that  I 
said  I  was  in  earnest— every  word!" 

'-Then  explain  why  you  take  such  remarkable  interest  in  a  poor  friendless 
girl  like  me.  Tell  me  all.  Hold  nothing  back." 

'•You  will  not  be  offended  ?" 

"Xo,  sir,  I  will  not  be  offended." 

"It  is  because — because,  Mollie  Trussell,  I  love  you!" 

"His  face  flushed,  He  was  really  in  earnest.  The  girl  felt  it,  knew  it,  and 
all  feelings  of  anger  and  resentment  vanished  as  quickly  as  they  had  risen, 

"You  ?    You  love  me  V"  she  said,  "It  is  impossible!" 


78 

"But I  do!  I  love  you  so  well  that  I  will  marry  you  this  very  morning, 
Before  the  sun  is  an  hour  high,  if  you  will  consent!" 

"Oh,  you  foolish  old  man!" 

Mollie  laughed.  She  could  not  help  it.  It  was  comical,  in  her  mind,  to 
Lave  a  man  old  enough  to  be  her  grandfather  on  his  knees  to  her  the  first  day 
after  her  release,  protesting  love. 

"I  may  be  foolish,  but  I  am  sincere,"  he  replied,  without  seeming  to  notice 
her  merriment. 

"Will  you  marry  me,  Mollie?"  he  asked,  after  a  moment's  silence. 

"Bless  your  old  soul,  no!"  she  replied,  pleasantly;  "I  am  not  'on  the  marry' 
now.  You  have  bought  me,  and  what  more  can  you  ask  ?" 

"Consider  my  offer  seriously,"  he  pleaded;  "I  am  a  man  of  means;  I  will 
take-you  away  from  the  hateful  scenes  of  the  past;  I  will  give  you  a  name;  I 
will  make  you  respected,  honored,  loved— and  I  will  make  you  love  me,  too, 
Mollie!" 

She  felt  kindly  towards  the  old  man  as  she  placed  her  arm  around  his  neck 
and  kissed  him  affectionately. 

"It  is  the  wine  that  you  have  drank  that  is  talking,  and  not  you,"  she  said, 
softly,  "and  even  if  I  could  accept  your  offer  I  ought  not  to  and  would  not  do 
it.  It  would  be  taking  a  mean  advantage  of  an  innocent  old  gentleman,  and  I 
should  never  forgive  myself.  Do  not  think  of  it  any  more,  say  no  more  about 
it,  and  let  us  speak  of  other  and  more  pleasant  things.  I  will  join  you  in 
another  bottle,  if  only  to  drive  away  the  seriousness  that  seems  to  have  fas- 
tened itself  upon  us.  But  the  servants  are  abed  and  asleep,  and  I  shall  have 
to  open  it  myself." 

"Oh,  no!  I  could  not  permit  you  to  do  that!  I  know  where  the  wine 
vault  is,  for  I  saw  the  black  woman  opening  wine  in  it  last  night.  You  re- 
main here,  and  see  how  nicely  I  can  perform  for  you  a  menial's  duties!" 

"As  you  will,"  she  laughingly  replied,  taking  a  magazine  from  a  table  and 
busying  herself  by  looking  at  the  engravings,  for  she  could  not  read  a  word. 

"The  old  man  is  gone  quite  a  while."  she  thought,  as  she  studied  the  pic- 
tures; but  she  did  not  feel  that  anything  was  wrong,  and  was  so  engagevl  and 
entertained  at  what  she  was  looking  at  that  she  did  not  raise  her  eyes  from  the 
pages  of  the  monthly,  when  the  door  was  opened  and  the  wine,  in  a  silver 
tray,  was  placed  on  the  marble  table. 

The  man  stood  behind  her,  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 

"Let  me  offer  a  sentiment,  Mollie,"  he  said. 

It  was  the  old  gentleman's  voice,  and  Mollie  did  not  look  up,  but  took  her 
glass  mechanically  and  responded; 

"A  sentiment?  I  will  drink  with  pleasure  to  anything  you  may  propose!*' 

"Before  we  drink,  though,  Mollie,  let  me  ask  you  to  be  calm,  be  womanly, 
be  the  heroic  woman  I  know  you  are,  for  a  great  surprise  awaits  you!" 

He  was  leaning  over  her.    His  lips  almost  touched  her  cheek. 

"If  there  are  more  surprises  for  me  to-night,  or  this  morning,  for  the  night 
has  passed,  let  them  come,  said  Mollie,  gaily. 

She  could  not  conceive  of  anything  more  serious  than  another  avowal  of 
love,  and  that,  from  an  old  man,  could  be  treated  with  levity— as  a  joke. 

"Touch  glasses!"  he  commanded,  still  standing  behind  and  bending  ever 
her. 

She  obeyed. 

The  man  slowly  repeated: 

"Here's  to  the  love  that  lasts  for  years;  here's  to  the  love  that  feasts  ©n 
tears;  here's  to  the  love  that  gladdens  the  giver,  that  causes  maidenly  hearts 
to  quiver;  here's  to  a  love  that  is  steeped  in  folly;  here's  luck  to  the  man  who 
loves  Irish  Mollie!" 

The  beautiful  courtesan  queen,  supposing  the  lines  he  had  spoken  had 
been  committed  to  memory  from  some  book,  had  listened  with  mere  polite  at- 
tention ;  but  when  her  own  name  was  made  to  rhyme  so  neatly  she  turned 
quickly  and  looked  wonderingly  up. 

The  glass  in  her  hand  dropped  on  the  marble  table  and  was  shattered  to 
fragments! 

Pressing  both  hands  upon  her  fair  brow  Irish  Mollie  shrieked: 

"Great  God!  why  did  I  not  suspect  this!" 


79 
CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  scene  in  that  room  in  the  House  of  Euth  Thomas,  when  Irish  Mollia 
looked  wonderingly  up  into  the  face  of  the  supposed  old  man  whose  lips  had 
pronounced  the  strange  words — 

"Here's  to  the  love  that  is  steeped  in  folly, 
Here's  luck  to  the  man  who  loves  Irish  Mollie!" 

— was  one  of  the  most  thrillingly  dramatic  ever  witnessed,  on  the  stage  or  off. 

The  exclamation,  "Great  God!  why  did  I  not  suspect  this?"  came  involun- 
tarily to  the  beautiful  courtesan's  lips. 

The  face  she  saw  was  not  that  of  the  old  gentleman. 

Jim  Parker  stood  before  her! 

Was  it  a  wonder  that  she  was  surprised  ? 

The  truth  flashed  through  her  quick  brain  instantaneously.  During  the 
whole  night,  whenever  she  had  looked  into  the  eyes  of  her  apparently  aged 
purchaser — for  such  she  regarded  him — a  feeling  of  mystery  crept  over  her. 
Those  eyes  were  familiar,  though  the  man  was  a  stranger.  The  voice,  too, 
had  occasionally  sounded  strangely  like  that  of  of  an  old  friend.  And  when- 
ever she  looked  at  him  quickly  she  always  found  him  regarding  her  with  such 
affectionate,  tender  glances  that  it  almost  pained  her. 

It  required  no  words  to  tell  the  whole  story.  Jim  Parker  had  been  with 
her  all  night!  The  disguise  he  had  worn  was  complete.  It  would  have  de- 
ceived anybody.  It  had.pruelly,  as  she  then  thought,  deceived  her. 

He  did  not  speak,  but  waited  in  silence  for  the  words  that  should  follow 
the  exciting  tableau. 

Jim  Parker  did  not  have  to  wait  long.  There  was  a  volcano  in  that  pas- 
sionate woman's  breast,  and  there  was  anger  in  her  wondrously  beautiful 
eyes. 

"Sneak !"  she  hissed. 

Still  he  did  not  speak. 

"Coward!"  she  littered,  spitefally. 

Jim  Parker  had  nerved  himself  for  this  exciting  scene.  He  was  under 
complete  control  of  himself,  and  not  a  muscle  moved. 

''Mollie,"  he  said,  calmly,  "you  promised  me  that  you  would  meet  any  sur- 
prise heroically.  Before  you  saw  me  as  I  now  am,  and  when  you  believed  I 
was  an  old  man,  I  told  you  that  a  great  surprise  awaited  you.  It  has  come.  I 
have  been  with  you  this  whole  night.  I  have  pressed  you  to  my  bosom.  I 
have  kissed  you,  and  you  have  returned  those  kisses!  I  have,  with  the  aid  of 
a  clever  disguise,  triumphed  over  you!  But,  Mollie  Trussell,  before  you  hurl 
;it  me  too  many  curses,  before  you  bury  me  too  deep  under  the  load  of  male- 
dictions that  come  so  hot  from  your  heart,  I  ask  you  to  give  me  one  great 
mark  of  credit.  I  ask  you  to  reflect  upon  the  fact  that  I  revealed  my  true 
identity  at  a  time  when  /  could  have  gone  much  further,  and  enjoyed  a 
triumph  such  as  man  seldom  gains  when  battling  with  a  woman  so  shrewd  as 
you  are.  I  did  not  profit  by  the  advantage  that  was  mine.  Where  would  we 
be  now,  Mollie,  if  I  had  really  been  a  base  sneak  and  cruel  coward  ?" 

The  man  raised  his  arm,  and  with  his  forefinger  pointed  in  the  direction 
of  the  bedroom. 

Merciful  heaven!    Where  would  they  have  been  ? 

That  was  a  lucky  speech  for  Jim  Parker.  It  was  manly  in  him  to  unmask 
on  the  very  threshold  of  victory,  and  Mollie's  heart  softened  as  wax  softens 
under  blazing  heat,  when  she  thought  of  it. 

She  did  not  hesitate  to  speak: 

"I  was  hasty,  Jim,  and  unjust,  and  I  recall  the  words.  I  expected  to  see 
you— vras  looking  for  you— but,  fool  that  I  was,  I  did  not  know  you.  You  de- 
ceived me  thoroughly.  Why  did  you  do  it  ?" 

"Can  you  not  imagine  the  motive  that  prompted  this  night's  masquerade, 
Mollie?"  ' 

"Xo,  I  cannot.  I  have  been  frank  with  you,  and  I  was  le.-l  to  believe  that 
you  had  finally  concluded  that  I  was  in  earnest,  and  had  given  me  up." 

"I  will  never  give  up  hope,  Mollie!" 


80 

The  girl  was  not  displeased.  His  was  a  romantic  love,  and  she  admired 
him.  If  she  could  ever  love  any  man  it  would  be  Jim  Parker,  she  thought. 
Repeating  the  question,  "why  did  you  do  it  ?"  she  continued : 

"If  you  had  come  here  to-night  just  as  you  are  now,  you  would  have  been 
well  treated.  You  have  been  very  kind  to  me,  Jim,  and  I  would  be  a  most 
ungrateful  wretch  if  I  did  not  appreciate  it." 

"Would  you  have  treated  me  just  the  same  as  you  did  the  old  man,  Mollie  ?" 

The  girl  blushed  and  hesitated,  but  soon  replied: 

"No,  Jim,  I  would  not." 

"And  I  knew  you  would  not  I  That  was  my  reason  for  coming  the  way  I 
did.  I  had  learned  from  your  own  lips  that  you  intended  to  go  baek  to  the 
old  and  awful  life.  Ida  Preston  told  me  of  the  reception  here,  and  I  told  her 
that  I  should  come.  The  banker  who  came  here  with  me  assisted  in  the  plot, 
furnished  me  the  disguise,  and  encouraged  me  to  play  the  part  to  the  end  of 
the  drama!  There  was  a  devil  in  me  when  I  catae  here!  The  check  I  gave 
was  good,  and  will  be  honored  when  presented.  I  knew  that  money  would 
buy  you,  and  I  knew,  too,  that  a  thousand  dollars  would  make  the  purchase.  I 
did  not  intend  to  undeceive  you.  My  purpose  was  to  carry  out  the  deception. 
I  half  believed  that  you  would  marry  the  rich  'old  man,'  and  I  should  have 
married  you  this  morning,  and  trusted  to  your  kind  heart  for  forgiveness  when 
the  hour  for  recognition  came.  But  when  you  refused  I  relented.  I  could  not 
carry  deception  as  far  as  that.  I  have  succeeded,  however,  in  the  one  grand 
purpose  that  brought  me  here— I  have  kept  others  away  from  you! ' 

The  girl  did  not  reply,  and  her  persistent  lover  in  soothing  words  asked: 

"Are  you  so  seriously  offended  that  you  cannot  forgive  me,  Mollie  V" 

"I  ought  not  to  forgive  you,"  she  replied;  but  there  was  no  angt-r  in  her 
voice. 

"Won't  you  fill  up  another  glass,  Mollie?  Won't  you  drink  luck  to  the  man 
who  loves  Irish  Mollie  ?" 

"Yes— I  wish  you  all  the  luck  in  the  world,  and  I  will  drink  to  the  toast!" 

"Brave,  true,  noble  girl;  I  thank  you!"  exclaimed  Jim,  with  a  joy  that 
showed  itself  in  his  flushed  face. 

"Don't  presume  too  far,"  warned  the  girl,  fearing  that  her  impetuous  lov- 
er might  imagine  that  she  meant  more  than  she  said. 

"I  am  glad  it  is  all  over,  anyway,"  she  resumed;  "and  I  am  not  sorry  that 
tins  night's  adventures  turned  out  as  they  did.  I  hate  this  fife  that  I  have 
commenced,  and  I  dread  the  hour  that  will  see  me  once  more  in  the  ranks  of 
the  women  of  the  town!" 

"Why  do  you  embrace  it,  then,  if  you  dread  it  so  V" 

"Oh,  do  not  ask-!  Leave  me  now,  Jim,  please,  like  the  good,  kind  friend 
that  you  are.  I  will  see  you  again  goon.  I  am  tired — excited— nervous — 
crazy!" 

I  shall  not  leave  you,  Mollie,"  he  said,  firmly;  "I  shall  hold  you  to  the  con- 
tract made  to-night!    The  money  is  yours!    You  are  mine!" 

"Jim  Parker!  are  you  crazy?" 

"No;  I  ana  a  business  man,  talking  to  a  business  woman!  I  have  paid  your 
price,  and  I  demand  the  delivery  of  the  goods!" 

The  girl  was  thunderstruck. 

'•Money!"  she  said,  sharply,  "do  you  think  I  would  take  money  from  you  ? 
Do  you  think  I  would  have  accepted  of  one  thousand  or  ten  thousand  dollars 
4f  I  had  known  who  it  was  that  made  the  offer?  No,  sir!  I  will  not  touch  it!" 

Parker  acted  as  though  he  expected  just  such  a  reply. 

"I  came  here  for  a  purpose,"  he  said,  "and  I  have  half  accomplished  it. 
The  other  half  may  not  be  completed  to-day,  but  I  tell  you.  Mollie,  that  the 
next  effort  will  be  more  successful!  I  love  you!  I  have  loved  you  for  many 
years!  I  have  proved  my  love!  The  most  heroic,  courageous  act  of  my  life 
was  the  unmasking  that  took  place  only  a  few  minutes  ago  I  ought  to  have 
been  as  heartless  as  you  are.  I  ought  to  have  kept  up  the  deception  and  re- 
vealed myself  to  you  after  a  day  or  a  week  of  licentious  revelry  had  passed.  I 
did  not  do  it,  because  I  foolishly  thought  you  would  relent  and  throw  your- 
self, with  love  and  affection,  into  my  arms!  It  seems  that  you  have  determin- 
ed to  resist  not  only  my  entreaties,  but  the  pleadings  of  your  own  heart,  and 
travel  the  road  to  ruin ;  I  now  tell  you,  Irish  Mollie,  that  I  shall  not  be  so  fool- 


THE  CRUEL    ASSAULT, 
Miraculous  that  Irish  Mollie  Escaped  Instant  Deat» 


82 

ish  again!  This  morning  I  shall  leave  you.  But  mark  my  words,  the  time 
will  come  when  Jim  Parker  will  meet  you  just  the  same  as  he  did  to-night, 
and  when  you  recognize  him  it  will  be  when  WAKING  IN  HIS  ARMS!" 

He  left  the  room  and  the  house  without  another  word. 

The  girl  was  amazed,  What  did  the  man  mean?  What  would  be  the 
next  move  in  this  strange  game  of  passion  ? 

She  slept  until  evening,  awoke,  dressed  herself  with  care,  and  seemed  to 
those  who  met  her  to  be  a  contented,  happy  woman.  But  she  was  not.  She 
feared  that  something  dreadful  would  happen.  She  believed  that  Jim  Parker 
would  make  good  his  threats. 

But  she  diduiot  fully  realize  that  on  that  very  nigkt  another  exciting  ad- 
venture awaited  her! 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


Irish  Mollie  had  made  up  her  mind,  while  in  prison,  that  as  soon  as  libera- 
ted she  would  throw  off  the  cloak  of  hypocrisy  that  had  fitted  her  so  well,  and 
at  once  renew  her  old  bad  calling.  The  good  people  who  had  interested  them- 
selves so  zealously  in  her  favor  she  could  avoid;  but  there  was  one  friend  she 
could  not  shake  off  if  she  would.  Did  she  want  to?  Would  she,  if  her  will 
was  law,  send  Jim  Parker  away,  never  to  see  him  more? 

She  liked  that  man.  Had  there  never  been  a  George  Trussell,  she  would 
have  loved  him.  He  was  very  dear  to  her.  If  she  should  see  him  in  another 
woman's  arms,  there  would  be  murder  in  her  heart.  And  yet,  realizing  this; 
knowing  that  he  loved  her  with  a  devotion  such  as  few  men  had  ever  loved 
before;  knowing  that  he  was  ready  and  anxious  to  give  her  his  name  and  the 
protection  of  his  arm,  she  battled  against  herself,  and  madly  determined  that, 
come  what  would,  she  would  shake  off  all  obstacles  and  take  the  position  she 
had  once  held  as  the  courtesan  queen  of  Chicago!  Jim  Parker  could  be  her 
brother — nothing  more! 

He  had  left  her  with  a  threat.  She  was  forewarned.  There  could  be  no 
danger,  she  thought.  But  still,  the  last  words  of  the  man  who  loved  her  ke.pt 
ringing  in  her  ears:  "Jim  Parker  will  meet  you,  and  when  you  recognize  him 
it  will  be  when  waking  in  his  arms!" 

She  laughed  at  his  threat,  but  it  was  a  doleful  laugh.  There  was  doubt, 
uncertainty,  fear  in  the  sound. 

"1  will  not  see  him  to-night— I  will  not  see  him  for  a  week,"  she  thought; 
"when  the  poor  foolish  boy  comes  here  again  in  disguise  he  will  iind  no  Mollie 
to  deceive,  and  he  will  be  a  clever  detective  if  he  succeeds  in  hunting  her  to 
her  hiding  place." 

She  had  formed  a  resolution,  and  immediately  took  steps  to  carry  it  out. 
One  of  the  young  gentlemen  who  had  attended  the  reception  had  been  much 
more  demonstraty*  in  his  professions  of  friendship  than  any  of  the  others. 
She  really  believeaThat  he  cared  more  for  her  than  his  words  betokened,  for 
his  looks  had  plainly  spoken  a  grievous  disappointment  when  he  failed  to  win 
her  favors  on  that  festive  evening.  He  would,  she  was  sure,  welcome  with 
joy  a  message  to  come  to  her.  She  would  send  for  him,  they  would  go  out  to 
some  private  resort,  and  for  a  week  she  would  be  free  from  fear  of  the  pres- 
ence of  a  lover  whose  attentions  she  began  to  consider  in  the  light  of  persecu- 
tion. 

"I  will  write  to  him"— she  was  whispering  to  an  imaginary  friend— "I  will 
explain  all,  ask  him  to  help  me,  and  beg  of  him  to  come  soon. 

Then  a  shadow  passed  over  the  beautiful  face  of  the  famous  queen. 
Alas!  she  could  not  write  one  word,  did  not  know  one  letter  from  another! 

"Ida  Preston  can  write,  if  I  cannot,"  she  thought,  and  a  servant  was  sent 
out  to  order  a  hack. 

An  empty  carriage  was  met  by  the  messenger,  and  engaged  with  less  de- 
lay than  had  been  anticipated. 

"Luck  seems  to  be  coming  my  way,"  she  said,  smilingly,  to  the  servant;   ' 


83 

expected  you  to  be  gone  at  least  half  an  hour,  and  here  you  are  back  again  In 
less  than  five  minutes." 

Then  she  turned  to  the  hackman: 

"Do  you  know  where  Miss  Lou  Harper  lives,  over  on  Monroe  street  ?" 

"Know  it  well,  ma'am ;  bin  there  a  hundred  times,  I  reckon ;  want  to  ride 
over?" 

"No,  I  do  not  wish  to  go  there  novy,  but  I  want  you  to  carry  a  message  for 
me.  It  will  not  be  necessary  to  send  it  in  writing.  I  wish  you  to  go  there,  as 
soon  as  possible,  inquire  for  Miss  Ida  Preston,  and  say  to  her  that  her  friend 
Mpllie  wishes  to  see  her  at  once,  on  important  business.  She  will  ride  back 
with  you,and  then  I  presume  I  shall  want  you  for  the  remainder  of  the  night, 
or  the  best  part  of  it,  anyway." 

"All  right,  ma'am,"  said  the  hackman,  respectfully,  "I'll  be  over  there  ia 
five  minutes.  Ida  Preston — that's  the  right  name,  is  it  V  These  gals  have  so 
many  names,  sometimes,  that  they  themselves  forget  exactly  what  name  to 
answer  to.  But  I'll  remember,  ma'am — Ida  Preston." 

"That's  right,  my  man,  and  hurry  over  as  soon  as  you  can." 

The  carriage  rolled  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the  South  Side. 

The  hackman  was  soon  pulling  at  the  bell  of  the  Monroe  street  palace. 

"I  wish  to  see  Ida  Preston,"  he  said  to  the  housekeeper,  as  she  opened  the 
door. 

Ida  was  called. 

"Is  this  Ida  Pressman  ?"  he  inquired. 
'  "Preston,  sir,"  was  the  short  reply. 

"Oh,  yes,  that  is  the  name,  come  to  think  of  it!  Well,  a  Woman  over  on 
the  North  Side— Mollie  somebody  or  other — wants  you  to  come  over,  right 
away,  on  important  business,  and  I'm  to  draw  you  over,  ma'am  I" 

"Did  she  send  no  written  message  ?    No  note  ?" 

"Nary  a  note.  I've  told  ye  jest  what  she  told  me.  Ye're  to  git  into  that 
are  kerridge,  right  away— them's  the  orders— and  I'm  to  hev  ye  over  thar  jest 
as  quick  as  them  are  bosses  can  pull  ye!" 

Ida  did  not  care  to  exchange  words  with  the  hackman,  though  she  did  not 
exactly  relish  the  air  of  authority  and  importance  he  assumed.  She  knew 
that  Irish  Mollie  had  sent  for  her,  knew  that  something  unusual  had  taken 
place,  and  was  anxious  to  learn  more  of  the  mystery,  if  mystery  it  was. 

"Very  well,  my  good  man,"  she  said  to  the  driver,  "I  will  hurry  and  get 
ready.  Don't  go  away.  I  shall  be  ready  to  start  within  five  minutes." 

"All  right,  Miss,"  said  the  driver,  as  she  closed  the  door.  "Five  minutes!" 
he  growled,  as  he  returned  to  the  hack;  "a  woman's  five  minutes!  Half  an 
hour,  if  it's  a  second!  'My  good  man,'  she  called  me.  Maybe  she  won't  think 
I'm  such  a  good  man,  by  the  time  she  gets  through  with  me!  'Good  wolf 
would  sound  better!  Yes,  old  boy,"  he  continued,  talking  to  himself,  and 
pounding  his  broad  breast  to  keep  him  warm,  "you're  a  wolf  to-night,  sure! 
Let  the  lambs  be  careful,  or  they'll  wake  up  in  the  morning  and  find  them- 
selves all  chawed  up.  I'm  hungry  for  blood,  I  am!" 

The  door  opened,  and  Ida  Preston  came  hurrying  out.  ,«_x 

"Great  Caesar!  Beady  so  soon  ?"  exclaimed  the  hackman;  who  was  really 
astonished. 

"I  generally  keep  my  word,"  was  the  quiet  response,  as  she  stepped  into 
the  carriage. 

"All  right,  miss,  all  right!" 

The  whip  cracked  and  away  they  went. 

"Yes,  it  is  all  right,  Miss  Ida  Preston,"  mumbled  the  hackman  to  himself, 
"and  if  it  ain't  I'll  make  it  all  right  before  morning— bet  your  life  I  will!" 

The  house  of  Kuth  Thomas  was  reached  without  accident  or  incident. 

"Thanks  for  your  promptness,"  said  Mollie,  smilingly,  to  the  hackman,  as 
she  met  her  visitor  at  the  door. 

"Don't  go  away,"  she  cautioned,  without  giving  him  a  chance  to  speak, 
"for  I  shall  want  you  again,  in  a  very  short  time.  You  can  consider  yourself 
engaged  until  relieved  by  my  order." 

The  driver  turned  his  back  and  walked  to  the  carriage  without  sayiag  a 
word. 


84 

When  the  two  girls  were  alone,  Moilie,  with  as  few  words  as  she  could,  ex- 
plained everything. 

Ida  did  not  attempt  to  conceal  her  astonishment. 

"If  I  had  such  a  friend  as  Jim  Parker  is  to  you,"  she  said,  warmly,  "I'd 
not  run  away  from  him!  I'd  just  throw  myself  into  his  arms  and  say  to  him, 
'Jim,  here  I  am,  all  yours!  Take  me,  keep  me,  love  me,  and  make  me  happy  as 
you  can!'  That's  the  kind  of  a  girl  I  am,  Moilie!" 

"But  I  am  not  that  kind,  Ida!  He  has  deceived  me,  threatened  me,  and  I 
am  determined  to  avoid  him,  for  a  week  or  two  at  least,  and  learn  him  that  ke 
is  not  smart  enough  to  fool  me  again,  as  he  did  last  night.  You  have  been  my 
friend  through  all  the  troubles  of  the  past,  and  you  will  not  desert  me  now, 
dear.  I  know  you  won't !" 

"I  have  promised,  Moilie,  to  be  a  sister  to  you,  and  I  will  keep  that  prom- 
iSe  faithfully  and  truly;  but  at  the  same  time  I  shall  not  feel  bad  if  Jim  Par- 
ker makes  good  his  threat!  You  deserve  to  be  whipped,  Moilie  Trussell,  for 
the  part  you  have  taken  in  this  romantic  affair — you  know  you  had!" 

She  spoke  chidingly.but  pleasantly. 

"Now  to  business!"  exclaimed  Moilie;  "you  know  my  friend,  who  felt  so 
badly  at  my  coldness  last  night.  Write  him  a  note  to  come  at  once;  that  I 
wish  to  see  him  and  go  with  him  to-night,  that  I  am  sorry  for  my  rudeness, 
and  will  repay,  and  more  than  repay  that  coldness,  by  the  warmest  reception 
ever  given  by  woman  to  her  lover!" 

The  note  was  written  almost  exactly  as  it  had  been  dictated  by  Irish  Moi- 
lie, and  properly  directed.  Then  the  hackman  was  summoned. 

"Can  you  read,  my  man  ?"  asked  Moilie. 

'A  little  bit,  if  it's  writ  good,"  said  the  man,  avoiding  the  light  as  much  as 
he  could. 

"Do  you  think  you  can  make  that  out  ?"  was  the  next  question,  as  the  note 
was  handed  him. 

"West  Monroe  street!  Way  out  to  Kucker !  That's  a  long  drive,  ma'am, 
but  I  can  find  it.  It's  a  dark  night  that  I  can't  hunt  up  a  house  anywhere  in- 
side the  limits.  Any  answer  ?" 

"You  will  know  when  you  get  there,  and  the  gentleman  reads  what  I  have 
written.  He  will  probably  come  back  with  you.  Be  as  quick  as  you  can. 
You  will  be  well  paid  for  all  you  trouble." 

The  man  mounted  to  the  driver's  seat,  and  wa£  out  of  sight  before  the 
girls  closed  the  door. 

Ida,  in  particular,  looked  after  him  with  a  strange,  wondering,  mysterious 
expression  in  her  face.  She  did  not  know  why,  but  she  mistrusted  the  mes- 
senger who  had  been  employed  as  the  bearer  of  an  important  Document.  She 
discreetly  kept  her  thoughts  to  herself,  however,  and  without  a  word  of  sus- 
picion returned  to  the  parlor  of  Euth  Thomas  with  her  friend. 

The  reader  will  be  interested  in  knowing  the  thoughts  and  acts  of  the 
strange  hackman. 

"I'll  know  when  I  get  there,  will  I?  The  gentleman  will  probably  come 
back  with  me,  will  he?  Must  be  quick,  must  I ?  She's  in  a  hurry,  is  she? 
I'll  be  well  paid,  will  I ?  Well,  yes,  1  think  I  will  be  well  paid!  Better  paid 
than  she  imagines!  They  don't  know  I  was  at  the  window,  and  heard  every 
word  they  said!  That  girl  Ida's  a  good  one!  She's  a  trump,  she  is !  I  like  her, 
I  do!  Whoa-a-a!" 

The  horses  were  pulled  up  in  front  of  a  building  on  Randolph  street,  near 
Clark,  opposite  the  Museum.  The  driver  mounted  the  stairway,  entered  a 
room,  locked  the  door  after  him,  lit  the  gas,  sat  down  at  a  table,  and  tore  open 
the  notel 


85 
CHAPTER  XXVII. 


The  mysterious  hackraan  well  knew  the  contents  of  the  letter  before  he 
tore  it  open.  He  had  heard  almost  every  word  of  the  conversation  between 
the  girls,  and  could  imagine  the  wording  of  the  note.  He  read  it  slowly,  care- 
fully, critically.  Mollie  and  Ida  might  be  in  a  hurry,  but  he  was  not.  In  fact, 
he  did  not  propose  to  drive  over  to  Kucker  street,  nearly  two  miles  away,  when 
it  was  just  as  easy,  by  clever  forgery,  to  answer  the  little  missive  himself! 

The  reader  may  be  curious  to  see  the  dainty  note.  It  was  well  written, 
with  delicate  shades  and  flourishes,  and  was  worded  as  follows: 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND— Partly  to  explain  my  seeming  coldness  and  rudeness 
of  last  night,  but  more  particularly  to  ask  of  you  a  favor  that  will  place  me 
under  many  obligations,  I  venture  this  bold  manner  of  seeking  an  interview.' 
I  wish  to  see  you  on  a  matter  of,  to  me,  very  great  importance.  Can  you  make 
it  convenient  to  come  in  the  carriage  driven  by  the  bearer  of  this  message  ? 
And  can  you  arrange  your  Hffairs  so  as  to  remain  away  a  few  days  ?  If  you  can, 
you  don't  know  how  well  I  shall  be  pleased;  but  by  all  means  come  to  me  at 
once,  and  let  me  explain  a  matter  that  can  be  told  better  and  plainer  in  the 
way  of  conversation  than  by  cold  words,  written  on  dreary  paper.  Please 
come,  my  dear,  good  friend,  and  confer  a  lasting  blessing  on 

Yours  affectionately, 
MOLLIE  TRUSSELL. 

It  would  have  puzzled  a  professional  mind-reader  to  have  penetrated  the 
brain  of  that  hackman  and  interpreted  his  thoughts,  as  he  sat  with  that  open 
letter  before  him.  He  smiled,  but  there  was  no  merriment  in  his  face.  There 
seemed  to  be  a  devil  at  work  within  him,  plotting  desperate  schemes  for  the 
accomplishment  of  some  infernal  purpose.  If  ever  villain  was  written  on  any 
man's  brow,  the  word  could  be  plainly  seen  stamped  on  the  forehead  of  that 
hackman,  as  for  a  third  time  he  read  the  words  of  the  note  signed  by  Mollie 
Trussell. 

Who  was  he,  anyway,  and  why  had  he  selected  as  a  victim  a  fair  girl  whose 
troubles  should  have  appealed  to  the  sympathies  of  even  a  thief  or  a  murderer  ? 
Was  it  chance,  or  was  it  a  pre-concerted  purpose,  deliberately  planned,  and 
then  in  process  of  being  carried  out  ?  Was  he  a  robber  ?  Or,  more  plausible 
of  all,  was  he  a  relative  of  George  Trussell  ? — a  human  blood-hound,  tracking 
to  death  the  slayer  of  his  kinsman  ?  The  facts  revealed  further  along  in  this 
romance  will  divulge  the  story  of  that  strange  man,  and  explain  the  causes 
that  made  him  look,  on  that  night  of  adventure  and  excitement,  so  like  a 
demon. 

The  hack-driver  hesitated.  His  looks  and  actions  told  he  was  in  doubt  as 
to  what  he  would  do. 

"Affectionately!"  he  sneered,  with  a  smile  such  as  villians  force  when  they 
send  a  blade  or  a  bullet  into  a  victim's  heart. 

"She's  an  affectionate  girl,  she  is!  But  I'm  losing  time.  I  must  be  back 
to  the  North  Side  in  just  about  an  hour— just  the  time  it  would  take  me  to 
drive  over  to  the  house  where  'her  dear  friend'  lives!  Business  is  business  to- 
night, and  I  must  get  in  my  work  quick!" 

Something  must  have  suggested  itself,  for  he  at  once  took  paper,  pen  and 
ink  from  a  writing  desk  in  the  room,  and  wrote  with  great  rapidity  in  a  dash- 
ing, business  man's  hand. 

Was  he  a  hackman  V 

Could  a  hackman  dash  off  words  on  paper  with  as  little  effort  as  he  did  ? 
No! 

Would  a  hackman  be  liable  to  have  a  room  fitted  up  with  the  extrava- 
gance that  this  one  was  ?  No! 

Completing  his  literary  work,  he  ran  his  eyes  over  it,  and  was  pleased 
with  what  he  had  done.  The  writing  was  as  follows: 

MY  DEAR  MOLLLE — Your  dear,  kinc?  note  was  received  just  as  I  was  leav- 
ing home  this  evening,  and  you  may  be  assured  that  is  was  read  with  unusu- 
al pleasure.  I  would  respond  in  person  immediately,  and  be  most  happy  to  do 
so,  but  circumstances  are  such  that  a  delay  of  a  few  hours  is  unavoidable.  I 
have  invited  a  few  gentlemen  friends  to  go  out  riding  with  me  this  evening. 


86 

They  have  accepted,  and  are  now  waiting  for  me  at  our  club  room.  We  shall 
drive  out  to  Downing's  roadhouse  in  Bowman ville,  but  I  shall  try  and  get  away 
much  earlier  than  was  my  original  intention.  I  cannot  possibly  avoid  this 
necessary  delay.  I  will  certainly  see  you  before  the  night  is  over — probably 
between  1  and  2  o'clock — and  I  shall  expect  to  be  received  in  such  a  kind,  affec- 
tionate way  that  to  tear  myself  away  before  noon  the  next  day  will  be  an  im- 
possibility. Believe  me,  the  next  few  hours  will  have  no  pleasures  for  me. 
After  that,  dear  Mollie,  I  hope  to  be  a  happy  man.  Until  then,  dear  one,  good 
bye.  Faithfully,  YOUR  FRIEND. 

The  mysterious  man  folded  it  carefully,  enclosed  and  addressed  it,  button- 
ed up  his  coat,  and  mounting  the  hack  drove  leisurely  to  the  house  of  Iluth 
Thomas. 

A  ring  brought  Mollie  to  the  door.  She  was  nervous  and  excited — anxious 
to  get  away,  and  hide  from  the  man  she  believed  was,  or  would  be,  watching 
her  movements. 

Mollie's  face  was  all  smiles  when  she  opened  the  door;  but  the  absence  of 
the  friend  she  had  expected  soon  drove  them  away. 

"The  young  man  told  me  to  give  you  this,"  said  the  hackman,  handing  her 
the  letter  he  himself  had  written  only  a  few  minutes  before. 

She  took  the  letter  with  disappointment. 

"You  saw  him,  then  V" 

"Course  I  did.    He  didn't  hand  me  the  letter  through  the  key-hole!" 

"Oh,  yes— why,  of  course,  you  must  have  seen  him.  You  may  wait  on  the 
outside  until  I  have  read  what  he  has  sent  me.  Do  not  go  away,  for  I  shall 
probably  need  your  services  further." 

"All  right,  Miss,  I'll  wait  as  long  as  you  wish — all  night,  a  week,  a  month, 
if  you  say  so." 

"Very  well,  sir,"  she  replied,  coldly,  as  she  hastened  to  the  parlor  where 
she  had  left  Ida  Preston. 

"Ida!  for  God's  sake  read  this  to  me,  quick!  I'm  dying  to  hear  what  he 
says !"  she  exclaimed,  placing  the  envelope  in  the  hands  of  her  friend. 

Ida  opened  and  read  it. 

Mollie  Trussell  was  offended. 

"I  did  not  think  he  would  let  a  trifling  engagement  keep  him  away,"  she 
said,  with  some  spirit;  "I  am  sorry  we  sent  him  the  note  at  all." 

"The  engagement  was  not  so  trifling  as  you  suppose,"  said  Ida,  "and  I  do 
not  see  how  he  could  well  avoid  keeping  it.  He  belongs  to  a  club;  has  invited 
a  number  of  his  companions  to  a  ride,  perhaps  a  supper  and  a  dancing  frolic. 
You  have  been  out  to  Downing's  yourself.  Mollie,  and  know  what  kind  of  a 
place  it  is— a  resort  for  fast  people.  It  is  quite  probable  that  there  will  be  la- 
dies in  the  party  to-night,  too,  and  I  really  can't  imagine,  under  the  circum- 
stances, how  he  could  get  out  of  keeping  his  word.  It  would  be  unpardonable 
to  disappoint  his  friends  that  way.  Your  ntfte  to  him  was  a  surprise,  you 
know.  If  he  gets  here  as  early  as  2  o'clock,  in  my  opinion  you  ought  to  con- 
sider yourself  as  the  recipient  of  a  high  compliment." 

"Come  to  think  of  it  that  way,  Ida,  I  guess  you  are  right;  but  I  can't  wait 
until  even  10  o'clock!" 

"Gracious,  Mollie!  are  you  so  badly  smitten  as  that?  Are  you  really  crazy 
all  of  a  sudden  for  this  man's  society  ?" 

"Xonsense  Ida!  You  know  better.  I  want  to  use  him,  nothing  more.  I 
care  nothing  for  him  whatever.  Indeed,  I  do  not  belieye  I  care  as  much  for 
him  as  I  do  for— for— well,  I  will  say  as  for  the  hackman  who  brought  me  the 
note!" 

She  emphasized  these  words— why,  she  did  not  know.  Both  girls  started! 
Was  it  imagination,  or  did  they  hear  a  hoarse,  chuckling  laugh  in  the  direction 
of  the  window  ?  They  listened  intently,  but  all  was  still,  save  the  rattle  and 
clatter  of  a  passing  carriage,  and  the  incident  passed  without  further  thought. 

"What  shall  I  do,  Ida?"  questioned  Mollie;  "you  are  my  friend,  my  sister, 
my  adviser— tell  me  now,  what  to  do,  where  to  go,  by  what  means  I  can  avoid 
meeting  Jim  Parker  for  the  next  week !" 

"If  you  would  take  my  advice  you  would  not  avoid  him.  replied  Ida;  "but 
I  know  you  will  not  listen  to  me  if  I  talk  that  way,  and  so  I  won't  say  another 
word.  You  are  not  afraid  of  him,  are  you,  Mollie  V" 


87 

"In  what  way  ?"  asked  Mollie. 

"You  are  not  afraid  he  would  strike  you,  or  injure  you  in  any  way?" 

"Heavens I  no!    A  thousand  times  no!    I  wish  to  God  he  would  though!" 

"Wish  he  would  strike  you  ?" 

"Yes!  I  would  like  to  have  him  come  through  that  door  now  with  clench- 
ed fists  and  beat  me,  and  kick  me,  and  drag  me  around  the  room  by  the  hair  of 
the  head,  as — as — as  George  Trussell  use  to  do!" 

"Oh,  Mollie!  Why  do  you  recall  anything  so  dreadful  ?  Why  would  you 
want  a  good  friend  to  turn  upon  you  that  way?" 

"I  will  tell  you,  Ida,"  said  Moilie,  placing  her  arms  around  her  companion's 
neck. 

"Please  do,"  was  Ida's  tender,  affectionate  appeal. 

"It  is  because  it  would  make  me  hate  him!" 

Ida  shuddered.  Turning  her  face  so  as  to  meet  that  of  Mollies,  she  asked 
earnestly: 

"Mollie  Trussell,  do  you  love  that  man  ?" 

"Never  ask  me  such  a  question  again,  Ida!  I  have  sworn  that  I  will  never 
love  any  man,  and  I  repeat  the  oath  now  and  here!  I  will  tear  from  my  heart 
every  tender  feeling  for  any  son  of  woman!  I  will  crush  with  an  iron  will 
any  sentiment,  anything  that  approaches  love  for  mortal  man!  I  will  be  a 
man-hater  as  long  as  I  live,  so  help  me  God  and  the  Holy" 

"Mollie,  be  careful!" 

"Careful  of  what  ?" 

"Of  committing  a  mortal  sin !  We  are  bad  girls,  both  of  us— outcasts — 
wantons — prostitutes!  The  world  despices  us  and  scorns  us!  Society  classes 
us  with  the  dogs  of  the  street!  But,  Mollie,  there  is  One  who  does  not  despise 
us,  who  does  not  desert  us,  who  does  not  banish  us  from  His  thoughts,  who 
does  not  take  from  us  the  hope  of  Heaven  nor  the  prordise  of  His  mercy!  Be 
careful  that  you  do  not  offend  that  Friend,  Mollie!" 

The  Irish  girl  was  subdued  as  thoroughly  as  though  she  had  been  para- 
lyzed with  a  blow.  Like  all  others  of  hfir  race,  reverence  for  religion  was 
born  in  her,  and  nothing  could  wipe  it  out.  The  author  of  this  romance  never 
saw  an  Irish  girl  so  low  that  she  could  not  be  moved  to  almost  abject  submis- 
sion by  well-timed  words  of  admonition  from  the  lips  of  any  one  entitled  to 
respect. 

"I  did  not  mean  anything  wrong,"  explained  Mollie,  humbly. 

"I  know  you  did  not,  dear ;  I  merely  spoke  to  caution  you,"  replied  Ida. 

After  a  long  silence  the  conversation  was  renewed. 

"I  believe  you  think  more  of  Parker  than  you  wish  you  did,  Mollie,"  re- 
marked Ida. 

"I  do  not  deny  it." 

"And  you  want  to  force  yourself  and  him  to  be  unhappy!" 

"I  want  to  keep  away  from  him,  and  I  want  him  to  keep  away  from  me. 
As  things  now  stand  we  are  fighting  a  regular  battle.  He  has  not  threatened 
me  with  danger — he  could  not,  it  is  not  in  him  to  do  that — but  he  has  declared 
that  he  would  win  me,  'by  fair  means  or  by  foul.'  Those  were  his  very  words 
to  you,  Ida.  He  has  been  fair  so  far,  I  must  acknowledge— he  has  been  good 
and  noble— but  I  can  expect  no  mercy  from  this  time  to  the  end.  I  dare  not 
stay  here.  If  he  should  come  as  Jim  Parker,  I  could  avoid  him;  but,  when  he 
lias  already  deceived  me  so  cleverly,  how  am  I  to  know  where  or  when  or  in 
what  shape  to  look  for  him  ?  You  know  the  threat  he  made  when  he  went 
away  this  morning?  Well,  my  defense  must  be  secrecy  and  flight.  I  must 
leave  here  within  half  an  hour!" 

"Have  you  any  idea  as  to  where  you  can  go  ?"  asked  Ida. 

"I  was  thinking  about  that.  Why  not  drive  out  to  Downing's  now,  and 
meet  my  new  lover  before  he  starts  for  home?" 

"An  excellent  idea!"  exclaimed  Ida,  who  was  getting  to  be  quite  excited 
over  and  interested  in  the  "battle,"  as  Mollie  called  it. 

It  required  but  a  few  minutes  to  get  ready.  Mollie  had  no  trouble  in  pre- 
vailing upon  Ida  to  go  with  her.  It  was  romantic,  and  where  is  the  girl  who 
would  hesitate  to  embark  in  an  adventure  that  gave  promise  of  unusual  and 
exciting  events  ? 

Let  us  go  back  to  the  mysterious  hackman. 


88 

As  has  probably  been  surmised,  be  did  not  go  back  to  the  carriage,  when 
the  doors  had  been  closed,  and  wait  quietly  and  patiently,  as  drivers  are  ex- 
pected to  do.  He  wanted  to  know  what  the  girls  were  saying,  and  had  no 
difficulty  in  finding  out.  The  window  was  convenient,  no  one  was  watching 
him,  and  few  words  escaped  his  ears. 

The  girls  decided  upon  the  very  course  he  had  anticipated.  His  scheme, 
whatever  it  was,  was  working  admirably. 

Returning  to  the  carriage,  he  gave  a  peculiar  signal ,  and  in  less  than  a 
minute  a  man  came  walking  briskly  along,  and  stopped  in  front  of  him. 

"You  are  prompt,  my  friend,"  said  the  hackman,  pleased  that  his  confed- 
erate had  been  so  faithful. 

"I  was  waiting  for  the  signal,"  the  man  replied. 

"What  I  want  of  you  now  is  to  go  out  to  Downing's,  as  quick  as  you  can 
get  there,  and  wait  for  me.  You  will  not  have  to  wait  long.  Take  the  single 
buggy  and  the  fast  roadster.  When  you  see  me  there  don't  recognize  me  un- 
til we  are  alone.  Then  I  will  give  you  instructions." 

"AH  right,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  and  the  man  was  off. 

Not  a  minute  later,  the  two  girls  came  from  the  house,  and  Irish  Mollie 
said: 

"Driver,  how  long  will  it  take  you  to  draw  us  out  to  Downing's  ?" 

"Oh,  'bout  an  hour  an'  a  half,  I  reckon." 

"Well,  you  may  drive  us  out  there  as  quick  as  you  can.  We  are  in  a  hurry. 
And  one  thing  more.  See  that  nobody  follows  us!" 

"I  pledge  you  my  word  nobody  shall  follow  us.  If  they  do,  I  shall  take 
pains  to  find  out  the  reason  why.  Oh,  no,  ma'am;  it's  a  dark  night  when  any- 
body can  pipe  me  off,  if  I  have  a  pointer  to  work  on!" 

"Oh,  no,  Miss  Mollie/'  chuckled  the  driver,  after  they  had  started,  "there 
isn't  much  danger  of  being  followed,  I  guess.  I  guess  there  ain't  anybody 
wants  to  see  you  on  any  more  particular  business  than  a  man  I  know  of  does! 
It's  a  cold  night,  but  there'll  be  thunder  an'  lightin'  before  mornin',  or  I'm  no 
good  on  guessin'." 

The  horses  seemed  to  have  caught  the  spirit  that  the  occasion  demanded, 
the  journey  was  over  in  surprisingly  fast  time. 

The  driver  conducted  his  load  to  the  VvHes'  parlor,  where  he  found  the 
laan  he  had  sent  before  him. 

"Jump  onto  the  box  and  drive  away  my  learn,  &s  though  tho  devil  was  af- 
ter you!"  he  whispered.  "I  will  take  your  place  and  your  rig.  We  \vilJ  change 
coats  and  hats,  and  that  will  put  them  off  the  scent.  Now,  my  friend  to  the 
barn,  and  be  lively!" 

After  Mollie  and  Ida  had  ordered  wine  and  refreshments,  and  had  thought 
it  rather  strange  that  they  had  not  seen  nor  heard  of  the  party  they  expected 
to  meet,  Mollie  sent  for  the  landlord. 

"Is  there  a  party  of  gentlemen  here  from  the  city,  Mr.  Downing?  she 
asked,  with  a  dread  or  fear  creeping  over  her  that  she  could  not  keep  back, 
battle  with  her  feelings  as  she  would. 

"There  has  been  nobody  here  from  the  city  to-day  except  ene  gentleman, 
and  he  is  here  now,"  was  the  reply. 

The  gentleman  alluded  to  had  been  seen   by  them.    He   was   an   entire 

fti"  T"i3  T\  0*PT* 

"Perhaps  they  have  not  come  yet.  We  will  wait,"  said  Mollie,  but  she 
began  to  fear  that  something,  she  could  not  guess  what,  was  wrong.  Then, 
hearing  the  sound  of  a  retreating  carriage,  she  asked: 

"Who  is  it  that  is  going  away  in  that  hack  ?" 

"That!  Why,  that's  your  own  driver,  and  he's  whippm'  up  the  horses  like 
the  very  devil!" 

"Therascall    The  traitor!"  exclaimed  Mollie,  wild  with  passion  and  ex- 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


"What's  the  matter  with  that  are  driver?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Downing,  as  the 
carriage  and  its  eccentric  driver  vanished  in  the  distance;  have  ye  paid  him 
for  the  job,  and  is  he  shell-roadin'  ye  ?" 

"No,  he  has  not  been  paid,"  said  Ida,  who  did  not  seem  to  share  in  the  ex- 
citement, "and  I  presume  he  will  be  back  soon.  He  certainly  could  have  no 
object  in  leaving  us  in  this  way.  Perhaps  he  lost  something  on  the  way,  and 
has  gone  back  to  hunt  for  it:" 

"It  don't  look  much  like  a  man  hunting  for  anything;  it  seems  to  me  as 
though  he  is  trying  to  make  time,  by  the  way  he  drives,"  was  Downing's  dry 
response,  as  he  looked  curiously  down  the  road. 

"It  does  have  that  appearance,"  said  Ida,  wonderingly;and  then  she  turned 
to  Mollie. 

The  Irish  girl  stood  motionless,  blank  with  amazement.  She  looked  like 
a  stone  statue.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  in  the  direction  of  the  city,  as  though 
she  were  endeavoring  to  penetrate  the  darkness  and  overtake  the  fleeing  hack- 
man. 

"What  can  be  the  meaning  of  this  ?"  asked  Ida,  approaching  her. 

"God  knows  I"  was  the  vague,  wondering  reply. 

Then,  collecting  her  wandering,  dazed  thoughts,  she  exclaimed: 

"Ida,  we  have  been  betrayed!  There  is  treachery  in  this!  That  hackman 
was  employed  to  do  this  dirty  work  by  an  enemy!  We  are  in  danger!  We 
are  far  away  from  the  city,  far  away  from  friends,  and  a  great  danger  threatens 
us!" 

It  was  not  fear  that  prompted  these  words,  for  Irish  Mollie  was  no  coward. 
But  where  is  the  man  or  woman  who  would  not  quail  before  an  unseen,  mys- 
terious, cowardly,  snake-in-the-grass  foe  ? 

Old  man  Downing  heard  the  words  of  his  fair  guest,  and  they  seemed  to 
touch  a  sensitive  chord,  for  he  spoke  up  promptly: 

"You  needn't  worry  yourselves,  gals,  about  being  molested  when  in  my 
house.  Nobody  has  ever  been  robbed  or  murdered  here,  and  nobody  ever  will 
be  as  long  as  my  name's  on  the  door.  So  don't  be  troubled  a  bit,  Maybe  you 
ean't  get  home  to-night,  but  I'll  send  you  in  all  right  in  the  rnornin',  and  you'll 
be  none  the  worse  for  a  snooze  under  the  rafters  and  a  little  fresh  country  air. 
You  folks  in  the  city  need  a  little  bracing  up,  now  and  then,  and  here's  where 
you  can  get  it." 

Neither  Mollie  nor  Ida  had  paid  any  attention  to  the  old  man's  assur- 
ances. They  were  thinking — trying  to  solve  the  mystery  that  had  placed  them 
at  the  mercy,  as  they  believed,  of  some  unknown  and  invisible  enemy. 

The  strange  gentleman,  who  had  heard  everything,  then  stepped  forward. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  ladies,"  he  said,  with  great  politeness  and  a  slightly 
foreign  accent,  "but  from  the  conversation  that  I  was  forced  to  listen  to  I  am 
led  to  infer  that  you  are  in  trouble  of  some  kind.  If  I  can  be  of  any  assist- 
ance to  you,  in  any  way,  I  beg  you  to  qommand  me — I  am  at  your  service." 

He  spoke  like  a  gentleman. 

Mollie  had  been  "sizing  him  up."  He  was  not  bad  looking,  so  far  as  could 
be  asaertained  by  lamp-light,  and  he  was  built  in  that  compact  moM  that  al- 
ways signifies  a  muscular,  athletic,  powerful  man.  He  had  approached  in 
such  a  polite  way  that  it  pleased  her,  and  the  look  of  alarm  and  apprehension 
on  her  face  quickly  made  room  for  a  smile. 

"Thanks,  sir,"  she  replied;  "it  may  be  that  my  fears  are  foolish,  and  that 
everything  will  turn  out  right.  But  if  anything  wrong  should  happen,  I  shall 
be  pleased  to  take  advantage  of  your  kind  offer.  Are  you  from  the  city,  sir  ?" 

"Yes  and  no.  I  came  from  the  city  to-day,  for  a  drive,  but  I  do  not  be- 
long there.  I  am  a  traveling  man,  and  my  home  is  wherever  I  may  happen  to 
be. 

Mollie  was  inclined  to  be  "stuck"  on  this  gallant  free-and-easy  man  of  the 
world.  Hia  words  and  kis  actions  greatly  pleased  her.  There  was  something 
about  him  that  fascinated  her. 

But  what  of  Ida? 


91 

She  was  not  so  easily  captured  as  Mollie  had  been.  She  was  more  level- 
headed than  her  companion.  The  stranger  did  not  appear  to  her  in  the  same 
rose-colored  light  that  he  did  to  her  companion.  She  suspected,  doubted  him. 

Ida  had  the  opportunity,  without  being  rude,  to  use  her  keen  eyes  search- 
ingly.  He  had  directed  his  conversation  to  Mollie,  thus  giving  her  an  oppor- 
tunity to  study  him  with  no  possible  chance  of  giving  offense.  Her  verdict 
was  given  instantly,  notwithstanding  his  words;  it  was  unfavorable! 

Suddenly,  a  strange  light  gleamed  in  her  eyes,  and  a  surprised  look  flitted 
over  her  face. 

Mollie  and  the  stranger  had  entered  into  quiet,  easy  conversation,  just  as 
men  and  women  of  their  class  always  do.  Their  acquaintanceship  had  reach- 
ed a  long  distance  for  so  short  a  time,  he  having  already  invited  herself  and 
friend  to  take  supper  with  him  just  as  Ida's  strange,  suspicious  looks  had  denot- 
ed peculiar  thoughts. 

"I  shall  have  to  consult  my  companion,"  answered  Mollie  to  the  invitation 
alluded  to;"  if  she  consents,  I  am  certain  I  can  see  no  objection.  What  say 
you,  Ida  ?  Shall  we  accept  the  gentleman's  kind  offer  to  take  supper  with  him  ?" 

Ida  did  not  hesitate  a  second.  "Willingly,  thankfully,"  she  replied,  with  a 
smile. 

The  gentleman  then  left  the  parlor  to  hunt  for  Downing,  who  had  shuffled 
himself  away,  and  ordered  the  best  supper  the  place  afforded. 

As  soon  as  he  had  gone  Ida  said: 

"Mollie,  I  want  to  ask  a  favor  of  you.    Will  you  grant  it  ?" 

"Certainly.    What  is  it  ?" 

"When  that  man  comes  back  I  want  you  to  leave  the  room  five  minutes.  I 
want  to  be  with  him  alone  that  length  of  time." 

"Oh,  Ida!  Can't  you  let  me  have  him?  Can't  you  see  we're  mashed  on 
each  other?" 

"Nonsense,  Mollie!  You  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about.  After 
I  have  had  a  talk  with  him,  alone,  five  minutes,  you  can  have  him  all  to  your- 
self for  five  hours,  if  you  want  him." 

Mollie's  curiosity  was  excited.  She  couldn't  imagine  what  Ida  could  pos- 
sibly want  to  talk  to  the  strange  gentleman  about,  unless  it  was  to  make  an 
effort  to  capture  his  attentions  for  herself.  But  she  had  no  chance  for  further 
talk  on  that  topic,  for  the  subject  of  discussion  had  again  entered  the  parlor. 

"I  must  go,  I  suppose,"  thought  Mollie,  with  a  sigh  that  was.not  so  serious 
as  it  might  be;  and  then,  with  the  usual  plea  to  be  excused  for  a  moment,  she 
went  out. 

As  soon  as  she  had  gone  Ida  with  a  quick  spring  reached  the  side  of  the 
stranger,  seized  him  by  the  collar,  and  whispered,  sternly: 

"Scoundrel!    I  know  you!" 

The  man  did  not  seem  to  be  in  the  least  surprised. 

"1  was  aware,  Ida,  that  you  recognized  me,"  he  said,  complacently,  but  I 
never  dreamed  before  that  you  considered  me  a  scoundrel!" 

"You  seem  to  take  it  mighty  cool,  Jim." 

"That's  the  only  sensible  way  to  take  anything,    was  the  reply. 

"I  can  read  you  like  a  book,  Jim  Parker— this  is  all  your  work! 

"It  is!" 

"You  drove  us  out  here !" 

"I  did!" 

"You  have  been  shadowing  Mollie  for  two  days! 

"I  have!" 

"You  mean  mischief!    You  are  looking  for  revenge! 

"No!  You  wrong  me  there;  Ida,  as  G9d  is  my  judge  I  love  Irish  Mollie 
with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  and  were  she  in  real  danger  I  would  take  my 
death  defending  her  to-night!" 

He  was  an  eloquent  talker. 

Ida  believed  him,  trusted  him. 

The  five  minutes  were  up! 

Mollie  was  returning! 

Pulling  Parker  towards  her  Ida  whispered,  "go  on  with  your  masquerade! 
I  will  not  betray  you .'" 


92 
CHAPTER  XXIX. 


Jim  Parker,  though  he  had  not  expected  to  find  in  Ida  Preston  an  enemy, 
was  not  prepared  for  such  a  quick  decision  in  his  favor.  He  had  expected  to 
have  to  argue  the  matter  with  her,  at  any  rate,  if  she  had  not  already  made 
known  the  discovery  of  his  identity  to  her  companion  and  friend.  When, 
therefore,  without  one  word  of  solicitation  on  his  part,  she  whispered  to  him, 
"go  on  with  your  masquerade,  I  will  not  betray  you,"  the  young  man  who  could 
control  himself  with  such  wonderful  nerve  was  so  surprised  that  Irish  Mollie, 
as  she  entered  .the  room,  saw  from  the  flush  on  his  face  that  something  un- 
tisual  had  happened — that  exciting  words  had  been  exchanged  between  Ida 
Preston  and  the  gallant,  handsome  stranger. 

Mollie  looked  at  one  and  then  at  the  other,  and  smiled. 

There  was  guilt  written  plainly  on  both  their  faces. 

The  reader  knows  what  caused  that  look,  but  Mollie  did  not  know  it,  and 
at  once,  as  most  anybody  would  have  done,  concluded  that  there  was  a  clear 
case  of  love  at  first  sight,  and  that  an  agreement  of  some  kind  had  been  made 
during  her  absence  from  the  room. 

She  was  not  offended,  though.  The  man  was  nothing  to  her — no  man,  for 
that  matter,  was  anything  to  the  woman  whose  love  had  been  lavished  on  and 
was  buried  with  the  body  of  the  gambler  she  had  killed. 

Parker— for  the  mysterious  hackman  and  the  polite  gentleman  at  the 
roadhouse  was  none  other  than  Jim  Parker  in  disguise— advanced  to  where 
Mollie  stood  smilingly.  He  had  entirely  recovered  his  composure,  and  depend- 
ed on  his  ready  wit  to  extricate  himself  and  Ida  from  the  suspicions  that  had 
found  their  way  to  the  brain  of  the  woman  they  had  conspired  against. 

"I  have  just  discovered  that  your  friend  is  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine," 
ke  said;  "we  have  known  each  other  for  a  long  time." 

"Yes,"  chimed  in  Ida.  "I  thought  I  recognized  the  gentleman  when  we 
first  came  here — I  was  almost  sure  I  knew  him — and  I  was  never  so  pleased  in 
all  my  life  as  I  was  when  I  found  that  I  was  not  mistaken— that  I  had  acci- 
dentally, providentially,  rather,  met  MY  OWN  DEAR  CHARLIE!" 

She  advanced,  threw  her  arms  around  the  astounded  man,  and  forced  him 
to  embrace  her! 

This  was  another  surprise  for  Jim  Parker,  and  he  blushed. 

Ida  was  playing  a  part,  but  not  the  part  he  had  cast  her  for  in  that  comedy. 
He  did  not  come  there  to  make  love  to  her,  and  at  the  very  moment  when  her 
head  was  resting  so  lovingly  on  his  breast,  he  heartily  wished  her  a  thousand 
miles  away. 

Mollie  was  delighted. 

"I  am  glad,  oh,  so  glad  we  have  found  a  friend!"  she  exclaimed,  joyously; 
"you  will  stand  by  us,  defend  us,  protect  us,  won't  you,  Charley  V" 

She  had  taken  him  by  the  hand  with  both  of  hers,  and  looked  trustingly 
into  his  face. 

'•Madam,"  he  said,  "you  need  have  no  fear.    You  shall  not  be  harmed." 

"Call  me  Mollie,  please,  and  tell  me  that  again '  Do  you  know  that  I  like 
you  ?  Why,  I  never  saw  you  before,  Charley,  but  something  said  to  me,  trust 
him,  the  minute  you  came  into  the  room,  and  I  really  believe  you  would  not 
allow  that  villain  to  harm  us,  even  if  you  was  not  Ida's  old  friend!" 

"Mollie — I  call  you  Mollie  because  you  have  been  kind  enough  to  give  me 
permission — if  Ida  were  not  here,  and  you  were  alone,  and  danger  threatened 
you,  I  would  stand  between  you  and  that  danger,  and  no  one  should  harm  you 
without  first  walking  over  my  dead  body!"  --a*^ 

"That's  the  kind  of  friend  I  have!"  exclaimed  Ida,  clapping  her  hands  ap- 
provingly, and  pulling  Parker  into  another  close  embrace.  4'  " 

"And  that's  the  kind  of  friend  I  should  like  to  have!"  said  Mollie,  looking 
the  admiration  she  fait  for  the  hero  who  stood  before  her. 

"Are  you  speakii./  the  truth, Mollie?"  asked  Ida,  seriously. 

"Yes! '  the  Irish  beauty  responded,  enthusiastically;  "If  ever  I  hare  a 
friend;  if  ever  I  have  a  lover;  if  ever  I  love  a  man,  he  must  be  as  brave  and 
chivalrous  as  your  friend  Charley!" 

Ida  glided  gently  to  the  side  of  Jier  companion,  and  in  a  low  voice  said: 


93 

"Mollie,  you  have  a  better  friend  than  this  man  is  to  me." 

"You  mean  Jim  ?" 

"You  have  guessed." 

"He  was  jay  friend,  Ida,  but  I  doubt  him,  I  fear  him  now!  Did  you  never 
hear  of  a  love  that,  rejected  and  scorned,  turned  to  hate?  I  believe  he  hates 
me  now.  I  believe,  I  am  certain,  that  he  is  in  some  way  connected  with  this 
treacherous  plot  against  us,  and  that  there  will  be  trouble  for  us,  before  we 
leave  this  place,  that  we  do  not  dream  of!" 

Ida  did  not  share  in  this  fear;  but  had  she  known  what  the  next  few  hours 
would  reveal,  she,  too,  would  have  trembled  aiid  turned  pale  with  apprehen- 
sion! 

"After  all  that  Parker  has  suffered  for  you,  after  all  that  ho  has  done  for 
you,  do  you  really  believe  in  your  heart  that  he  would  harm  you  ?" 

"Perhaps" — and  the  girl  shuddered  at  her  own  words — "perhaps,  Ida,  he  is 
INSANE!  If  he  is,  his  madness  will  be  my  death!  If  I  knew  he  was  in  his  right 
mind,  I  should  pray  for  his  presence  in  the  moment  of  peril!  He  would  be 
the  last  man  to  lift  a  finger  against  any  woman!" 

Parker  had  overheard  all  that  was  said.  To  say  that  Mollie's  confidence 
in  his  manhood  pleased  him  is  but  to  faintly  picture  his  thoughts. 

"You  are  alarming  yourself  without  cause,"  was  Ida's  response  to  the 
dreadful  words  of  her  friend;  "Jim  Parker  is  not  one  of  the  kind  wn%  lose 
their  senses  on  account  of  trouble.  He  is  not  near  so  crazy  as  you  are  now.  I 
rather  thimk  he  has  had  something  to  do  with  our  desertion,  and  if  he  has  I  do 
not  blame  him.  •  You  heard  his  threats.  If  he  should  come  out  here  to-night, 
and  carry  you  away  forcibly,  I  would  not  blame  him  a  bit;  it  would  serve  you 
jUst  right;  and  I  don't  know  but  I'd  help  him  do  it,  too,  you  ungrateful  girl!" 

"Do  you  think  it  is  really  Jim  Parker  who  has  put  up  this  job  ?" 

Mollie's  voice  wavered  between  doubt  and  fear. 

"I  don't  think  anything  about  it — I  know  it." 

Jim  Parker,  when  he  heard  these  words,  was  troubled.  It  looked  as 
though  Ida  was  going  to  "give  him  away,"  notwithstanding  her  marked  prom- 
ise not  to  do  so. 

"How  do  you  know  it,  Ida  ?    Have  you  seen  him  since  we  came  here  ?" 

"Yes!" 

Parker  turned  his  back.  He  was  agitated  beysnd  the  power  of  control. 
Ida  had  betrayed  him! 

"Where  did  you  see  him ?  Where  is  he?"  Mollie  asked,  nervously,  ex- 
citedly. 

"Mollie,"  replied  Ida,  with  great  emphasis,  without  casting  a  single  glance 
in  the  direction  of  Parker,  "Jim  Parker  was  t'.ie  driver  of  the  carnage  that 
brought  us  here,  and  he  is  much  nearer  to  us  now  than  you  suspect!" 

Parker  was  more  hopeful.    Perhaps  she  would  not  unmask  him  after  all. 

"Are  you  sure  of  what  you  say  ?" 

Mollie  was  intensely  interested. 

"I  am  so  sure  that  I  would  swear  to  it.  I  know  it,  Mollie.  In  fact,  I  saw 
him,  talked  to  him,  and  he  acknowledged  to  me  that  he  was  Jim  Parker!" 

"I  am  amazed!"  was  all  that  Mollie  could  say  at  first,  but  she  quickly  re- 
covered possession  of  all  her  senses. 

"It  is  strange  that  yon  did  not  tell  me  of  this  before,"  she  continued,  with 
a  trifle  of  coldness  in  her  voice. 

"I  promised  him  that  I  would  not,  Mollie,  and  I  relied  on  your  good  nature 
and  good  heart  for  forgiveness.  If  there  was  the  slightest  danger  to  be  ap- 
prehended from  Jim  Parker,  you  may  be  sure  I  would  conceal  nothing  from 
you.  But  there  is  not.  You  may  see  him  again  before  morning,  Mollie,  but 
not  as  an  enemy.  He  has  been  masquerading,  and  has  got  the  best  of  Irish 
Mollie,  and  I  give  him  credit  for  it.  But^  don't  be  alarmed;  where  love 
rules  a  man's  actions,  violence  is  impossible." 

Mollie  was  mad,  but  not  malignant.  It  was  galling  to  be  outwitted  as 
cleverly  as  she  had  been,  but  that  very  fact  placed  Jim  Parker  a  notch  higher 
in  her  estimation.  She  admired  his  audacity,  and  the  skill  with  which  he  had 
worked  his  scheme.  But  what  would  be  his  next  move  ? 

Just   as  the  thought  was  worrying  her  brain,   the  "strange   gentleman, 
"Ida's  friend,"  "Charley,"  advanced,  smilingly,  with  the   easy   politeness   ot  a 
perfect  gentleman. 


94 

It  was  a  strange  incident— Parker  was  there,  coming  towards  her,  and  she 
at  the  same  moment,  with  her  eyes  on  him,  wondering  what  "his  next  move" 
would  be! 

"I  trust,  ladies,  you  are  not  alarmed  or  annoyed  by  fears  of  some  possible 
danger  V 

"Oh,  no,  Charley,  we  would  be  foolish  to  let  such  troubles  bother  us  while 
you  are  here  to  protect  us,"  said  Ida,  with  a  meaning  glance. 

'•For  my  part,"  said  Mollie,  "I  have  dismissed  all  thoughts  that  were  disa- 
greeable from  my  mind.  Whatever  is  to  come  will  come  anyway,  and  we  will 
have  to  meet  it  and  fight  it;  in  the  meantime,  let  us  enjoy  ourselves  as  well  as 
we  can.  Do  you  know,  Charley,  that  I  am  real  sorry  you  are  Ida's  friend  ?  She 
isn't  half  as  lonesome  and  downhearted  as  I  am,  and  don't  need  a  friend  at 
all — she's  got  plenty  of  'em — while  I,  poor  thing,  am  left  out  in  the  cold  world, 
with  no  one  to  love,  no  one  to  caress.  Don't  you  think  it's  too  bad,  Charley  ?" 

"It  is  really  a  shame,"  he  replied,  with  mock-sympathy,  "and  it  will  not  be 
my  fault  if  another  complaint  of  that  kind  is  made.  You  have  made  a  slight 
mistake,  Miss  Mollie,  in  ranking  myself  and  Miss  Ida  as  lovers.  She  will  tell 
you  that  we  were  never  other  than  good  friends.  In  fact,  she  gave  me  to  un- 
derstand, long  ago,  that  I  was  a  good  fellow,  and  she  liked  me,  but  I  must 
keep  .my  distance,  and  I  have  done  so.  Is  not  that  true,  Ida?" 

It  was  not  true.  He  had  never  made  any  advances  whatever.  But  Ida 
was  not  scrupulous.  She  could  tell  a  lie,  and  did. 

rtMy  friend  is  right,"  she  replied,  without  hesitation;  "I  did  not  think 
enough  of  him  to  give  my  old  lover  the  shake,  and  thought  too  much  of  him 
to  play  him  for  a  sucker,  and  that  left  us  friends — no  more!" 

"I  am  glad  of  that!    Will  you  be  my  friend,  Charley  ?" 

"I  will  be  your  good  friend,  your  loyal  lorer!" 

"Will  you  right  for  me?" 

"Try  me!" 

"I  will!" 

"Supper  is  ready." 

These  were  the  words  that  cut  short  a  conversation  that  was  becoming 
extremely  interesting. 

Mollie  took  Parker's  right  arm  and  Ida  the  left,  and  they  marched  merrily 
to  one  of  those  substantial  feasts  for  which  Downing  was  at  that  time  famous. 
Wine  was  ordered  and  drank  freely,  and  the  meal  was  heartily  enjoyed  by  all. 

Mollie  seemed  to  have  no  thoughts  beyond  the  passing  hour — she  had 
forgotten  the  threat  of  the  lover  she  had  rejected,  his  plot  to  kidnap  her,  his 
mysterious  disappearance,  and  the  probability  of  his  action — in  what  shape 
she  could  hardly  guess — that  very  night.  Her  new  lover  was  so  assiduous  in 
his  attentions,  so  anxious  to  please  her,  so  fascinating  in  his  speech  and  man- 
ners, that  she  was  wrapped  up  in  him  as  she  had  never  been,  with  one  excep- 
tion, before. 

The  hours  sped  rapidly  on.  They  always  do  when  pleasure  rules.  It  was 
12  o'clock  before  any  of  them  could  realize  that  it  was  as  late  as  10. 

After  a  moment  of  silence  Moliie  whispered  to  Ida,  "He  has  not  come  yet; 
it  is  late;  do  you  think  he  has  given  up  the  battle?  Do  you  think  he  will  be 
heard  from  again  to-night  ?" 

"I  do  not  believe  you  will  be  disturbed  or  annoyed  before  morning,"  was 
the  reply;  and  Ida  glanced  wickedly  at  Parker,  who  had  overheard  what  had 
been  said  in  an  undertone. 

"She  shall  have  a  diamond  ring  for  the  part  she  has  played  to-night,  God 
bless  her!"  thought  Parker,  but  he  was  careful  not  to  think  aloud. 

That  which  followed  may  be  referred  to  briefly.  The  men  and  women 
who  read  this  romance  are  in  most  cases  familiar  with  such  scenes  as  that 
which  took  place  that  night  in  Downing's  dining  room.  They  feasted,  drank, 
smoked,  and  indulged  in  pleasant,  easy  conversation  appropriate  to  the  occa- 
sion. When  all  was  over,  and  the  time  came  when  even  night-hawks  and 
revelers  begin  to  think  of  sleep  and  rest,  it  will  leave  little  to  the  reader's  im- 
agination if  he  draws  a  curtain  as  we  do  here. 

********** 

"Murder!    Help!  help!  help!!" 


Ida  Preston  awoke,  startled  M  eh«  had  not  been  before  in  along  time 

She  was  alone. 

A  stillness  like  that  of  death  and  the  grave  followed. 

Then  she  heard  a  man's  voice. 

It  sounded  hoarse,  harsh,  horrible. 

A  pistol  shot  followed. 

Then  again  came  a  faint  cry,  sounding  as  though  it  was  the  last  gas^  of  a 
dying  woman. 

"HELP!" 

"My  God!  he  is  murdering  her!"  shrieked  Ida,  springing  from  her  bed  in 
wild  alarm. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


The  situation  Jim  Parker  found  himself  in,  after  the  feast  at  Downing's 
was  over,  was  a  most  strange  and  novel  one.  He  was  so  cleverly  disguised 
that  Mollie  had  not  the  most  remote  suspicion  of  his  identity.  In  pursuance 
of  her  determination  to  again  join  the  ranks  of  the  fast  fraternity,  she  had 
accepted  the  advances  of  the  man  who  had  (as  she  believed)  so  unselfishly  vol- 
unteered to  defend  her  from  any  threatened  danger.  What  were  his  feelings? 
Why,  he  had  won  the  battle!  Irish  Mollie  was  his!  There  was  no  fear  of  re- 
cognition. No  power  on  earth  could  step  between  him  and  the  gratification  of 
his  wishes. 

Yet  the  man  hesitated. 

Should  he  throw  off  his  disguise,  fall  at  her  feet,  and  beg  of  her  to  receive 
him  to  her  arms  and  heart  ? 

"Xo!  I  have  fought  hard  for  this  triumph,  and  I  will  not  prolong  the  bat- 
tle! I  will  take  no  more  chances  1  When  daylight  comes,  and  Irish  Mollie,  re- 
clining in  these  arms,  opens  her  beautiful  eyes,  they  will  rest  upon  her  old 
lover  and  her  tried  friend,  Jim  Parker!  Then  let  the  storm  come — I  can  stand 
it!" 

These  were  the  thoughts  that  ran  through  the  busy  brain  of  Parker,  after 
the  door  had  been  locked  and  he  found  himself  in  the  same  room  with  the  wo- 
man he  loved,  The  decision  lie  had  arrived  at  was  irrevocable.  He  would  as- 
tonish her  in  the  morning,  and  then  face  the  music.  Turning  to  his  fair  com- 
panion, he  said: 

"We  can.  both  consider  ourselves  fortunate  in  meeting  as  we  have  done— on 
my  part,  in  finding  such  a  lovely  companion;  on  yours,  in  meeting  with  a  pro- 
tector on  \vhose  strong  arm  you  could  rely  in  case  of  necessity.  But  it  seems 
that  your  alarm  was  groundless.  The  enemy  you  feared  did  not  make  an  ap- 
pearance." 

Mollie  shuddered  in  spite  of  an  effort  to  control  herself. 

"Do  you  think  it  impossible  for  a  surprise  before — before  we — retire?" 

Courtesan  that  she  was  she  blushed. 

"Perhaps  it  is  not  impossible,"  Jim  replied,  "but  it  is  highly  improbable; 
and  in  order  to  make  it  pleasant  for  any  night  prowlers  who  may  haunt  this 
house,  I  will  place  these  where  they  will  be  ready  and  handy  for  speedy  use  in 
case  of  necessity." 

He  took  a  brace  of  ugly  looking  derringers  from  his  pocket  and  laid  them 
on  the  table  that  stood  near  the  bed. 

Irish  Mollie,  greatly  agitated,  clutched  hi*  arm. 

"You  would  not  use  those?"  she  asked,  nervously. 

"Oh,  no,  I  wouldn't;  I  would  lie  still  and  let  robbers  and  cut-throats  break 
in  and  do  as  they  pleased !" 

"But  there  are  no  robbers  here;  there  is  no  danger  put  them  up,  please— I 
am  afraid  of  them  since " 

She  did  not  complete  the  sentence. 

A  pang  shot  through  her  heart. 

"If  it  will  please  you  I  will  put  them  out  of  sight,"  he  said,  with  a  tone  of 
sympathy  in.  his  voice. 


96 

He  placed  them  under  a  pillow  of  the  bed. 

Mollie  looked  on,  and  sighed. 

She  remembered  that  it  was  a  pistol  that  had  caused  the  great  trouble  and 
sorrow  of  her  life. 

Ten  minutes  from  that  time  the  light  was  turned  low  down. 

"Mollie I  any  darling!" 

The  words  escaped  the  lips  of  Jim  Parker,  but  the  kisses  that  would  have 
been  hers  were  not  given,  for  a  grating  sound  was  heard  at  the  window,  and 
the  next  instant  the  sash  was  raised! 

A  man's  figure  was  plainly  outlined  in  the  window — a  large,  powerful- 
built  man. 

It  seemed  but  a  second  from  the  time  of  the  alarm  before  the  strange  visitor 
was  in  the  room. 

Jim 'Parker,  with  a  deadly  weapon  in  each  hand,  sprang  from  the  bed,  and 
Mollie  as  quickly  sprang  after  him,  with  the  cries  that,  as  recorded  in  the  last 
chapter,  had  alarmed  Ida  Preston. 

"Scoundrel!  take  that!"  exclaimed  Parker,  aiming  one  of  the  Derringers 
direct  at  the  brest  of  the  burglar,  and  pulling  the  trigger. 

Mollie  Trussell  quicker  than  thought  caught  his  arm,  and  the  bullet  lodged 
in  the  ceiling  instead  of  the  bold  intruder's  heart. 

"You  shall  not  kill  that  man !  Fly,  Jim,  for  God's  sake  fly!"  she  shrieked, 
madly  endeavoring  lo  place  her  body  between  the  two  men! 

The  burglar — for  it  was  a  burglar— did  make  an  effort  to  escape.  Bushing 
back  to  the  window,  he  succeeded  in  gaining  the  outside. 

Jim  Parker,  with  the  exercise  of  all  his  strength,  threw  Mollie  from  him, 
and,  taking  deliberate  aim,  fired  at  the  retreating  man. 

His  hands  flew  wildly  in  the  air,  and  with  a  groan  he  fell  to  the  ground. 

"Murderer!"  cried  Mollie,  fiercely,  "You  have  killed  the  best  and  only  friend 
I  had  in  the  world!" 

Concentrating  all  her  strength,  she  struck  Parker  a  powerful  blow  in  the 
face.  Then  jumping  like  a  cat  through  the  window,  she  flew  to  the  wounded 
man,  knelt  beside  his  prostrate  body,  raised  his  head  to  her  knees,  kissed  him 
passionately  upon  his  lips,  and  with  agony  in  her  voice  exclaimed: 

"Oh,  Jim!  I  tried  to  save  you,  but  I  could  not!  Would  to  God  that  it  was 
me  that  was  shot,  instead  of  you,  oh,  my  own  good,  true,  noble  friend— my 
darling!" 

Again  she  kissed  him! 

"Speak!  Say  that  you  are  not  killed!  Say  that, you  are  only  a  little  hurt 
— scratched— stunned — anything  but  killed— anyt!.«.ng  but  killed!  Oh,  God!  I 
cannot  live  without  you!  I  cannot  live  unless  you  do!" 

In  pressing  the  man's  hand  to  hers,  she  found  a  cocked  revolverl 

Quicker  than  lightning  she  grasped  the  weapon,  and  turned  I 

Jim  Parker  was  standing  with  arms  folded,  his  heart  beating  wildly  with 
a  great  joy! 

She  knew  it  not,  knew  him  not! 

Leveling  the  revolver,  she  shrieked: 

"You  have  murdered  my  soul's  idol,  and  now,  monster,  I  will  avenge  his 
death!" 

A  startling  report  followed,  and  Jim  Parker  bounded  into  the  air  and  fell 
heavily  to  the  grou-nd!  • 


Long  before  Jim  Parker  could  leaTe  the  house  where  he  had  been  nursed 
back  to  life  and  strength,  he  read  in  all  the  daily  papers  that  Irish  Mollie  had 
sailed  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco.  He  was  pained,  but  not  surprised. 
As  may  be  conjectured,  he  determined  to  follow  her  at  the  earliest  possible 
date;  and,  in  compliance  with  this  resolution,  three  weeks  later  found  him  a 
passenger  on  an  Atlantic  steamer,  ploughing  the  seas  in  the  direction  of  the 
Golden  shores.  Arrived  at  San  Francisco,  he  found  Irish  Mollie  to  be  already 
quite  a  famous  character,  she  having  established  herself  in  a  house  located  in  a 
low  neighborhood,  on  a  thoroughfare  known  as  Edina  place.  He  went  there 
with  no  attempt  at  disguise,  determined  to  confront  the  Irish  girl  boldly,  and 


97 

plead  with  her  to  leave  her  sinful  associates  and  go  and  be  with  him  through 
the  years  to  come.  He  was  amazed  when  he -1  found  that  the  Irish  Mollie  he  had 
traveled  so  far  to  find  was  a  fraud.  She  acknowledged  to  him  the  deception, 
and  explained  all  that  she  knew  concerning  the  parties  who  had  hired  her  to 
simulate  one  whose  notoriety  was  world-wide.  Parker  could  not  untangle  the 
web  of  mystery,  but  a  great  peace  came  to  his  mind,  and  his  heart  was  relieved 
of  a  sorrow  that  had  made  it  heavy  with  grief.  He  believed  that  everything 
would  turn  out  happily  in  the  end,  and  that  Irish  Mollie  would  yet  prove  her- 
self to  be  as  noble  in  mind  as  she  was  lovely  in  all  that  constitutes  physical 
beauty. 

Returning  to  Chicago,  he  waited  patiently  for  the  developments  he  was 
certain  the  future  would  reveal.  He  saw  Ida, Preston  frequently,  but  she  denied 
all  knowledge  of  Mollie,  and  declared  that  she  had  never  seen  her  since  the 
night  after  the  shooting  affair  at  Bowmanville,  when  they  returned  to  the  city 
together! 

Two  years  and  a  half  passed,  and  still  Jim  Parker  had  heard  not  a  word 
from  the  woman  he  would  have  given  all  his  earthly  possessions  to  see. 

On  one  bright,  beautiful  spring  morning  Ida  visited  him  at  his  hotel. 

' '  Mr.  Parker, ' '  she  said,  ' '  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you. ' ' 

"It  is  granted  before  it  is  named, ' '  was  his  impulsive  reply. 

' '  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that, ' '  she  returned ;  ' '  wait  until  you  learn  what  it  is 
that  I  would  ask  you. ' ' 

"Ida  Preston,"  he  said,  his  eyes  moistening  with  tears,  "there  is  nothing  in 
the  world  in  the  way  of  a  favor  that  you  could  ask  that  I  would  not  willingly 
grant  you.  I  can  never  forget  the  friendship  and  true  devotion  that  you  felt 
for  Irish  Mollie  when  she  was  in  trouble,  and  the  many  sacrifices  you  made  to 
befriend  her.  Any  friend  of  Mollie — God  bless  her!  shall  I  ever  see  her  dear 
face  again?— must  be  a  friend  of  mine!  What  can  I  do  for  you  to-day,  Ida?" 

"Oh,  I  was  feeling  ever  so  dull  and  lonely  this  bright  and  beautiful  morn- 
ing, and  I  thought  it  would  give  me  great  pleasure  if  some  kind  friend  would 
take  me  out  for  a  drive.  Am  I  asking  too  much,  Mr.  Parker?" 

' '  You  could  ask  for  nothing  that  would  give  me  more  pleasure  to  grant, ' '  he 
replied,  and  an  open  carriage  was  at  once  ordered. 

"Now,  then,  where  shall  we  go?"  he  asked,  after  they  had  been  seated,  and 
the  driver  was  awaiting  orders. 

The   girl   hesitated. 

'  <  I — I  do  not  particularly  care, ' '  she  said,  ' '  but  if  you  have  no  objections  we 
will  drive  out  as  far  as  Mr.  Downing 's  hotel  and  have  dinner. ' ' 

"Downing 'si  My  God,  Ida,  why  do  you  wish  to  go  there?  I  have  never  seen 
the  place  since  that  dreadful  night!  But  if  it  is  your  wish  I  have  no  objection. 
You  know  you  acted  as  my  friend  there,  that  night,  and  I  shall  never  forget 
you  for  it. ' ' 

The  order  was  given,  and  to  Downing 's  they  went,  and  were  soon  se:it.cid 
in  the  same  parlor  where  such  a  strange  scene  had  been  acted  more  than  two 
years  and  a  half  before. 

Parker  ordered  a  substantial  dinner  for  two. 

"Make  it  three,"  ventured  Ida;  "don't  you  think  the  poor  driver  will  need 
refreshments  when  we  are  satisfied?" 

Parker  coincided  in  her  views,  and  the  order  for  three  dinners  was  given. 

Ida  then  excused  herself  for  a  moment,  and  left  the  room.  Jim  Parker 
strolled  to  the  front  of  the  hotel,  to  enjoy  the  warm  sun  and  the  refreshing 
spring  breeze. 

When  he  returned  Ida  was  in  the  parlor,  as  also  was  another  lady,  whose 
face  was  turned  from  him,  and  who  appeared  to  be  a  stranger. 

"You  remember  well  the  time  we  were  once  before  this  waiting  for  a  meal 
in  this  room,  don't  you,  Jim?" 

Old  recollections  made  Ida's  voice  tremble  perceptibly  as  she  said  this. 

"Eemember  it?  Will  I  ever  forget  it?  But,  Ida,  we  were  not  alone  then,  as 
we  are  now.  The  woman  that  I  loved  then,  that  I  had  loved  for  years,  and 
that  I  love  now  as  madly  as  the  first  day  I  saw  her — the  beautiful  Irish  Mollie 
— was  with  us  then.  Oh,  God  in  heaven !  if  she  were  only  here  now,  Ida ! ' ' 


98 

lie  faced  Ida  as  he  spoke,  and  tears  were  in  his  eyes,  so  powerful  was  his 
emotion. 

Kven  as  he  spoke,  the  strange  woman  had  advanced  from  behind,  and 
before  he  could  comprehend  her  actions  her  arms  were  about  his  neck ! 

The  man  started,  as  though  to  free  himself  from  some  forward  woman's 
familiarities. 

Then  for  the  first  time  he  saw  her  face.  The  woman  was  smiling  through 
her  tears,  and  again  held  out  her  arms! 

"At  last!    thank  God,  at -last!"  he  exclaimed,  as   MOLLIE  TRUSSELL  FELL 

INTO   HIS   OUTSTRETCHED  ARMS ! 

Only  a  few  words,  and  our  story  is  complete.  The  romantic  plot  conceived 
by  Irish  Mollie  as  she  lay  upon  the  straw  in  the  cowshed  loft  succeeded  better 
than  she  had  dared  to  hope.  She  disposed  of  all  her  diamonds,  through  her 
friend  Ida,  and  with  the  money  carried  out  every  detail,  just  as 'she  had  planned 
it.  Then,  retiring  to  a  small  interior  city,  she  found  a  quiet  home,  and  for  more 
than  two  years  studied  as  faithfully  as  any  woman  could  to  acquire  that  knowl- 
edge without  which  no  woman  can  move  in  the  society  of  ladies.  Her  progress 
was  wonderful.  At  the  end  of  two  years  she  was  regarded  as  almost  any 
woman's  equal  in  the  attainments  that  befit  an  accomplished  lady.  She  had  lost 
two  years  of  life,  but  what  had  she  gained?  Something  that  life  would  be 
worthless  without! 

In  all  that  time,  Ida  Preston  had  been  her  confidential  friend  and  correspon- 
dent. She  knew  all  about  Parker's  visit  to  California,  "and  was  informed  regu- 
larly concerning  his  great  solicitude  regarding  her  whereabouts  and  her  wel- 
fare. Her  heart  ached  to  relieve  his  anxiety,  but  she  had  vowed  that  When 
Jim  Parker  looked  upon  her  again  he  should  see  a  lady,  and  that  vow  could 
not  be  broken.  She  knew  that  Parker  had  faith  in  seeing  her  at  last  and  prob- 
ably that  knowledge  did  much  to  aid  her  in  her  noble  resolution. 

The  dinner  at  Downing 's  that  had  been  ordered  for  "the  driver"  was  eaten 
with  relish  by  the  woman  who  was  made  Mrs.  James  Parker  that  evening,  at 
that  place.  The  ever-thoughtful  Ida  had  secured  both  a  license  and  a  clergy- 
man, preparatory  to  the  happy  ceremony.  She  was  somewhat  interested  in 
the  affair  herself,  for  Irish  Mollie  had  made  her  promise  to  abandon  "evil  ways 
and  companionships,  and  become  her  sister  in  the  home  that  was  henceforth  to 
be  one  of  love  and  happiness. 

The  marriage  ceremony  took  place  in  the  early  evening — Ida  Preston  and 
the  aged  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Downing  being  the  only  witnesses — the  Dowuiugs  being 
in  entire  ignorance  of  the  identity  of  any  of  the  party. 

That  night  Jim  Parker  and  his  wife  occupird  the  same  room  that  had  been 
the  scene  of  bloodshed  and  terror  many  months  before;  but  there  was  no  decep- 
tion this  time,  no  Derringers  were  concealed  under  the  pillows,  and  no  burglars 
disturbed  their  slumber. 

Jim    Parker   settled   up   his   business    affairs   as   speedily   as   possible.      Mrs. 
Parker — Irish    Mollie    no    more — was    not    recognized    previous    to    their    depar-* 
ture  for  a  new  home  in  a  distant  city,  accompanied  by  the  faithful  Ida  Preston, 
who  not  long  afterwards  found  herself  in  the  toils  of  love,  and  married  a  busi- 
ness, man  of  promise  and  worth. 

Many  years  have  elapsed  since  these  events,  but  to  the  writer  they  seem 
only  a  day.  Happy  in  the  love  of  her  noble  husband,  marvelously  beautiful 
still,  surrounded  by  a  family  of  bright  children,  the  eldest  now  a  young  woman 
grdNvn,  there  is  not  now  in  all  this  broad  land  a  more  contented  wife  and  mother 
than  the  woman  who  was  once  known  in  Chicago  as  IRISH  MOLLIE,  THE  COUR- 
TESAN QUEEN! 

[THE  END.] 


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Gee, "'. "  lynoids'  Famous  Queen  Elizabeth  Series 

.  • 

IN    THREE    VOLUMES. 

5oc.  Each.      Set  of  three  for  one  dollar. 


No.  1     The  Mysteries  of  the  Court  of  Queen 
Elizabeth 

3    Ada  Arundel,  or  the  Secret  Corridor 
3    Olivia,  or  the  Maid  of  Honor 

INTERESTING     EXCITING,     ACCURATE, 

AN  acknowledged  masterpiece  in  literature. 
It  deals  with  one  of  the  most  important  and  re- 
markable periods  of  British  history  in  the  six- 
teenth century.  The  scene  of  the  story  is  at 
Whitehall,  the  home  of  the  Queen  under  whose 
roof  were  perpetrated  some  of  the  most  diabolical 
Oots  recorded  in  history.  To  accomplish  her 
>urpose  she  has  men  and  women  entombed  in  her 
Astle  dungeon  until  their  reason  leaves  them. 
Any  person  who  stood  in  her  way  fo  love  and 
pleasure  she  finds  means  to  put  out  of  the 
way.  The  story  is  replete  with  thrilling  scenes 
between  the  Queen  and  her  courtiers  and  the 
diiTViviit  princes  and  princesses  of  the  castle.  A. 
most  interesting  tate  of  royal  life  as  it  existed  ia 
the  sixteenth  century.  Interesting  from  the  first 
to  the  last  page. 


These  Three  Books  Sent  Securely  Sealed,  Charges  all  Paid, 

for  $1.00. 


Addres*  all   orders   to   GARDEN  CITY   BOOK  CO.,  350  State 

Chicago.  III. 


